


Walls of Sanctuary

by tinyace



Category: Wicked - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, inspired by the Hunchback of Notre Dame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 04:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 71,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11547381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyace/pseuds/tinyace
Summary: It is rumored that the bell ringer of Notre Dame has skin as green as sin. Isolated from the world Elphaba is content being left alone, until a certain Gillikinese girl enters her life. While a romance slowly unfolds so grows the societal tension within the city’s walls. How long will it take before what’s brewing underneath Emerald City will reach those high towers?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Because both Wicked and The Hunchback deal with some heavy topics, this fic will too. I’ll make sure to put warnings on those chapters. No warnings for the prologue, except that Melena and Frex are terrible caretakers (but what else is new, really?)
> 
> Many thanks to [Emmanuel](http://gelphie.tumblr.com) (Wagyubeefy on AO3) and [GretchenMaurice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenMaurice/pseuds/GretchenMaurice/works) for beta'ing!

It was almost midnight when Frexspar finished his evening routine with a silent prayer. He knew the Unnamed God had big plans for him: why else would He assign him as youngest priest to the most beautiful church in all of Oz? Despite its recent decay, Notre Dame remained the centre of attention in the rapidly growing Emerald City. And if it were up to Frexspar, he would ensure the church would be blooming even after his death. 

That was why he devoted all his time to his faith, hoping that one day he would become archdeacon and take care of the church personally. So he prayed, not knowing yet that soon his prayers would be answered. However, such a selfish wish for gain of power never came without a cost.

A loud knock on the doors disrupted his thoughts. He still had to get used to aiding people around the clock. Nevertheless he found it rewarding, if not a bit exhausting. He stood up and crossed the empty hall. Frex realized halfway he had forgotten to bring a light with him, but decided against going back since the knocking had only grew louder. The person behind that door was desperately in need of help.

He searched for the handle of the door and was greeted by a cool, gentle breeze. His eyes had to take a moment to accustom to the dark of the night.

“How can I help?” he said, squinting his eyes to get a better look at the person.

“Father, forgive me, I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t a last resort.” The shivering voice belonged to a young woman. Her cheeks hollowed out and her eyes vacant. Her clothes were dirty and hung loosely around her meagre body. Yet, she didn’t look like she had lived on the streets her entire life. She was too soft, too delicate, like she had been pampered all her life. Like she had belonged in a wealthy world, and ended up where most people ended up in the City.

His welcoming demeanor shifted into one of reluctance. “What appears to be the problem?”

“Please, Father. I tried everything, but the orphanages refused to take it.”

Orphanages? Frex looked down and in the arms of the woman, wrapped in some old drapes, a sleeping child was tucked in. Did she think she could just leave a child here?

“The church is not an orphanage, Miss,” Frex said sternly. 

“But the church is a sanctuary!”

 _Not that ridiculous rule_ , Frex thought. The law and church were separated entities, thus, if someone was persecuted, they could claim sanctuary in a church and they couldn’t be arrested. It only led to lowlife and criminals living their lives within these walls, without ever appreciating the true meaning of religion. 

“If you are a refugee from the law, the Notre Dame cannot refuse to take you in. But your freedom will no longer exist outside these walls.”

The woman shook her head. “I can’t stay.” 

She brought the child closer, attempting to push it in his arms. It was only then that Frexspar saw the hideous thing that pretended to be a baby. It was an abomination; its green skin a reflection of its sinful nature.

“We can’t take _that!_ ” Frex said horrified. “That’s a demon that belongs in hell!” 

“I don’t want it! Take it!” the woman shrieked, still trying to push the baby into his hands.

“You must be out of your mind!” He tried to close the door, but the woman stuck a foot out to prevent this.

“Turtle Heart!” the woman cried in a last, desperate attempt. Despite himself, the name piqued interest and Frex turned his attention back to her. “He was an acquaintance of yours, wasn’t he?”

“We were roommates when we studied unionism.”

However, Turtle Heart was unfit for the profession and dropped out. Word had it he became a glassblower. In Frex’s mind, the only reason why someone would drop out of becoming a pastor was if the sins one carried were too much to bear under the watchful eye of the Unnamed God. Still, he had fond memories of their time together. 

He looked at the demon and then back to the woman suspiciously. “Is it his?”

“Would it change your mind if it was?” 

He could see the hint of hope in her eyes.

“Not in the slightest.”

The woman let down her head remorsefully. “It’s not his.”

Huh. Maybe Turtle Heart hadn’t quite turned out the sinner as Frex had believed. He did always have a charm about him. Even when he would argue with the priests about the regulations of unionism. Turtle Heart was always skeptical about the particulars of religion, even hated it at points. But he did believe that at its core any form of religion was about unconditional love and acceptance for others.

A noble but impossible cause. 

And yet… 

Frexspar gave the woman another good look. Her last hours had most certainly struck. The pregnancy must’ve taken its toll on that shabby body. And not just any pregnancy, this woman had a demon leeching off of her for nine months. 

It wasn’t much of a stretch to conclude she was unfit to be a mother. She must’ve walked all evening in the cold to get rid of it. This was her last stop. Even if Frex declined, and she was left alone with the demon, it wouldn’t be able to survive a week. And the woman, relieved of her burden, would find whatever substance she was addicted to and drown in it. One last, warm, oblivious embrace before the flames of hell would burn her forever.

He swallowed. Trying to push away the ludicrous thoughts that were forming in his head. 

“If I were to take this demon…” he began slowly.

“Oh Father, would you?” the woman asked, hope filling her voice.

“ _If_ ,” Frexspar emphasized, “I would take care of it, how do I know it will not bury me alive once it’s fully grown?”

“Even animals follow whoever fed them when they were young.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if wishing the Unnamed God would give him a sign what to do. 

Hesitantly he opened up his arms. He could feel a small weight being put in there. When he opened his eyes, the woman was out of sight. Of course a whore like her wouldn’t even bother to say thanks, Frexspar thought annoyed.

He looked down to the demon. It wasn’t sleeping anymore, but it wasn’t screaming like a normal baby either. Its dark eyes - that didn’t seem to have pupils - regarded him. Examined him. Had he made the wrong decision?

“What are you staring at?” 

He gave it an accusatory look. It cooed happily in response. Sweet Oz! Those teeth! Razor-sharp that could gorge through the flesh of any human. Panic rose, until he realized this demon could not even raise its own head. Completely dependent on his service.

If he were to nurture it, he should probably stop referring to it as a demon. At least verbally. 

“What name could I possibly give such a monstrosity as you?” he mused. 

He looked around the church with the many statues of saints on display. His eyes rest on the statue of St. Aelphaba. Oh how ironic, he thought, to name such an ugly beast after such a beautiful, but isolated mystery.

“Elphaba,” he tested out the name carefully.

Frexspar smiled to himself, but when he looked back to Elphaba, it was a grim reminder that the name didn’t make the demon any more human. 

He could always change his mind about raising it, but until then, he had others plans for it. The beauty about babies was that they were born without sin. They were pure. When a child would start to grow, so would it grow towards temptation. That’s what created sinners. 

This child, if you could even call it that, was clearly born _with_ sin. At the very least, it was born out of a sin. And the Unnamed God had punished the woman for it. But there was still hope. To Frexspar, the delivery of this child felt like a challenge from the Unnamed God himself. He was personally chosen to become the new messiah of the true faith. If he could prove that a sinful baby could live a holy life, it would prove that commitment to unionism was the right way to live. It would become a symbol. Churches would be flooded again by hope, not by fear. Pleasure faithers would disappear. And the oh so sinful world he detested would be able to cleanse itself.

Of course, it was only a fleeting dream. But in the years to come, whenever he was on the brink of throwing Elphaba in a river, it was this challenge that reminded Frexspar of his cause. 

Little did he know his _real_ challenge carved by the Unnamed God would wait for him another twenty years.


	2. The New Captain of the Guard

Elphaba had never minded her own little sanctuary high up in the Bell Tower. Not that it was exactly a place that was meant to be lived in. It was a cramped space and if someone raised their voice the bells would echo its sound. Even though the tower itself was made entirely out of stone, all the floors were made out of wood. Since Elphaba had spent most of her life here, she knew which floorboards would make which creaking sound.

Every morning and evening before a mass she had to go up those rotten wooden stairs and ring the bells of Notre Dame. But in-between her duties, was the quiet. She never noticed it, because it was the time she could read. The whole tower was covered in tinier towers made out of books. Her lifelong collection, that had begun when Frexspar noticed books were the only way to shut her up.

Thus life had fallen into a rhythm of banality. She rang the bells, she read, she was left alone. It was a repetitiveness she had gotten used to and grown fond of. Although every once awhile, that repetition was broken.

When Elphaba recognized the calm steps of Frexspar walking up the stone stairs, she knew something was off. He never visited her on Mondays. 

A knock on the door. “Fabala?”

Oz, she hated that nickname.

“Yes, Father?”

Frexspar sighed at the way she addressed him, and entered the room. Elphaba felt no shame; if he couldn’t address her properly, then neither would she. Still, he tried to correct her every time.

“I’ve been archdeacon for several years now, Fabala. A more customary way to address me would be ‘Deacon’ instead.”

“I’ll try to change, Father,” she said with a grin. 

He decided to ignore that and sat down on a chair opposite from her. “I’ve only come to tell you that the Captain of the Guard and his successor will be visiting Notre Dame today-”

Elphaba groaned.

“ _And_ as an accustomed part of the tour we will be visiting the Bell Tower,” Frexspar raised his voice over her objections. 

She hated it whenever special guests would be visiting Notre Dame. It always went down the exact same way. The guests had a delightful time, and were anxious to see the ‘most beautiful view of Emerald City’ from the top of the Bell Tower. Only, their enthusiasm was toned down once they realized the tower was guarded by a green terror. 

And if they weren’t terrified of her unnatural skin tone, her sharp features and weirdly formed body that was both tall and slender, but still had build enough muscle over the years to ring the bells, then certainly they would be repelled by her snarky commentary. 

“I wish I didn’t have to repeat myself, but by Oz, try to _behave_.”

“It wounds me that you’d think I wouldn’t.” 

He stood up, clearly having enough of their conversation already. “We will be here by noon. In the meantime, make sure you clean up. There’s clothes lying everywhere.” 

“But laundry won’t be until Thursday!”

He inhaled and exhaled slowly, noticeably counting to ten inside his head. “I don’t know how Nanny did it, rest her stubborn soul,” he mumbled, not bothering to look at Elphaba.

“For one, Nanny knew how to take a joke.” 

He immediately turned his head, “But Nanny didn’t take you in. I did. I may regret that decision for the rest of my life, but I _am_ the reason you’re alive.”

“God bless.” 

With nothing else to reply with except some huffs, some puffs, and a “you’re impossible” through gritted teeth he stomped off. 

“Should’ve locked me up in a mauntery when you had the chance, Father,” she called after him. 

Her answer came in the form of a slammed door. 

Elphaba rolled her eyes and turned her attention to the book she was reading. Surely she could wait another hour before starting to clean. Or two… 

When she heard a bunch of footsteps walking up the stairs, it seemed like Elphaba hadn’t moved an inch from her reading spot. Yet her surroundings were remarkably cleaner. That is, the clothes were neatly dumped to the side, and she had the decency to broom the most dusty corners before slumping back into her comfortable chair. 

The door opened and Elphaba leered over the edge of her book to catch a glimpse of the visitors. Behind Frexspar she could make out the golden curls of the Gillikinese noble. No surprises there. The Wizard liked his servants elitist. 

But as the guests entered the room, and Elphaba got a better view, she had to make an effort not to let her chin drop. Behind the now-retired Captain walked his successor. Beautiful in every sense of the word. Shining blue eyes, a charming smile. Proper. Delicate. Small. In a dress.

The new Captain of the Gale Force was a _woman_.

“Don’t mind Elphaba,” Frex guided the Gillikins. “This way, please.” 

The man followed him, not giving Elphaba a glance, but the young woman froze in her path and stared her down. Her eyes wide-open, as she registered Elphaba’s skin colour. 

_Here we go._

“You’re green!”

“I am?” Elphaba said in mock belief and pretended for a second to look at her hand in awe. “Forgive my ignorance, I have never known! I was born half-blind and therefore was never taught the proper colour spectrum.”

It did not have the desired effect as Elphaba had wished. The woman didn’t seem appalled by that remark, not even in the slightest. If anything, she seemed amused.

“How unfortunate,” she played along, and pointed at the pile of clothes shoved in the corner. “No wonder your dresses are all black. With just the one colour, you never have to worry it’ll clash.” 

For once, Elphaba could not think of a reply. The woman had picked up on her speechlessness and flashed a smile of victory.

“Glinda of the Arduenna Clan,” she introduced herself. 

Elphaba raised an eyebrow. “Arduenna? I was unaware the title of Captain was handed down the family line.” 

She was ready to object, but before she could, a voice called her.

“Glinda dear, are you coming? Deacon Frex will be showing the roof next.”

“Coming papa!” 

She gave Elphaba another glance. “We’re not done talking yet.” 

With a flick of her hair, she turned around and walked off. High and noble. 

“Proud and pretentious,” Elphaba muttered, still looking at where Glinda had been standing. She smiled at her own little joke, and pushed aside the thought how accurate that description really was.

With the Arduennas exploring the roof, the quiet had settled in once more. Sadly, it didn’t last long. After just a few pages Elphaba heard footsteps coming down. 

“Glinda dear, do come. You’ll catch a cold!”

“I’ll be down in a minute. Wait for me in the church.”

Frexspar looked at the retired Captain expectedly, but he shook his head, as if to say there was no point arguing. The two men went down the remaining of the wooden stairs, crossed the room, completely ignoring Elphaba, and went out of sight. 

A few moments later, the creaking noises announced that Glinda had descended from the rooftop as well. 

“You have quite the view, Miss Elphaba.”

Reluctantly, she looked up from her readings. “So I’ve heard.”

“I’m amazed you can see the whole city up there. It’s stunning! The way the river separates into two and meanders back together just before the walls. From the little people walking across the square, to the Wizard’s Palace all the way at the edge of the city. And of course, right ahead, at the end of this inner city island-”

“The Palace of Justice. The very place where you’ll be working,” Elphaba finished her sentence. “Goodness, if we both would stand on the roofs simultaneously, we could wave at each other!” 

Glinda pressed her lips together. “You think I only became Captain because my father handed me the job, don’t you?”

“I confess that thought has crossed my mind.” Elphaba wondered when she had decided to drop the sarcasm. “If so, the Gale Force is not as powerful as I expected it to be if it is to be lead by a woman so petite.”

She huffed. “You think very little of your own gender to say such a thing.”

“Own gender? So I’m a woman to you? Interesting. Did you know there’s an ongoing debate of what exactly my gender ought to be? Highly amusing, if you ask -”

“I won’t let you change the subject,” Glinda said firmly. 

Elphaba looked at her curiously. She almost expected Glinda to stomp her foot on the ground. Yet figuratively speaking, she had just done that. There was no point denying it; Glinda demanded respect.

“Why do you think I’m so unsuitable for the job?”

“I never said you were.”

“You not only insulted me, my profession, but the entire Gale Force itself.” 

Elphaba scoffed. “I merely commented on your physique. Sure, your blonde locks and pretty smile will charm folks, but you don’t seem to have much muscle to ring a bell, let alone lead the front lines of an army.”

“Ah, I see I miscalculated. I should never have expected that your intellect would reach as far as the inner workings of the secret service. My mistake,” Glinda added with a pride glinstering in her eyes.

Despite the stab at her intellect, Elphaba couldn’t help but feel entertained how Glinda retorted her remarks effortlessly. 

“You see, Miss Elphaba, my father was never the fittest man. But when he served in the army he could deduce how a battle would turn out down to the number of bullets that were fired. Any idiot can throw itself in front of a cannon and be called a martyr, but a battle can only be won with a strategy.

“So no, I may not be built as an ox. I may be, as you called it, _petite_. But even the Wizard himself could not deny my strategic skills. I was not chosen Captain because of my family name, although I admit, my father did teach me the trait. But rather, I was chosen for my worth as a political leader.”

Elphaba snorted. “You think very highly of yourself, Miss Glinda.”

Glinda clasped her hands behind her back. “And why shouldn’t I? We can’t all live like hermits in bell towers.”

Elphaba narrowed her eyes. “Why do you seem so fixated on tormenting me?”

“I only thought I’d return the favor.”

Her words may have been harsh, but that was not at all how she sounded. There seemed to be a silent understanding between them, but Elphaba couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was. All she could tell was that there was more to Glinda than met the eye. 

“I shall no longer take more of your time then, Captain. You must have a busy schedule,” Elphaba said, sensing their conversation had come to an end.

“My duties won’t start officially until next week when I’ll be overlooking the Festival of Fools,” Glinda said. “I wonder if you will brighten the parade with your attendance. Why, if there’s one day of the year you can walk the streets unnoticed it’d be then.”

“I highly doubt I’ll go unnoticed. They might crown me Pope of Fools.”

“Perhaps another time then.”

Was it her imagination, or did she detect disappointment in Glinda’s eyes? No, it couldn’t have been. 

“Goodbye, Miss Elphaba,” and with a small curtsey, Glinda turned around and left the bell tower.

Alone at last. She sunk back in a chair, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not focus on the words written on the page. Frustrated, she tossed the book aside and stared at the bells hanging above her head. 

Elphaba had never minded her own little sanctuary, but suddenly, the quiet rung louder than any bell.


	3. Festival of Fools

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning(s):** depiction of public humiliation / bullying, emotional abuse, and mild physical abuse ... I swear the chapter starts out real fun though!

It was one of the few rare mornings Emerald City did not wake up to the bells of Notre Dame. Today there would be no church services, because the Festival of Fools was in town. Regular shops were closed for the day, while merchants and collectors from every corner of Oz set up their stalls in the streets. 

Despite the early hour, a large crowd had gathered around the stage in front of the Palace of Justice. Since Elphaba had no other duties today, she decided to take a peek. 

Surprisingly, nobody had seemed to notice her odd skin. Probably because the rest of the city was for once more colourful. Glinda hadn’t lied, she had never been able to walk the streets so invisibly. A luxury she didn’t mind exploiting for a bit.

The chatter died out when there was movement on the stage. Elphaba stretched out to look over the masses in front of her, wondering if she would see Glinda make her first appearance as the Captain of the Guard. Instead, two young men - both dressed in tuxedos so brightly coloured it hurt her eyes - climbed onto the stage and waved to gain everyone’s attention.

“Hear hear! We welcome you all to the Festival of Fools!”

“The only day where sinners become saints!”

“The only day of the year you wished you remembered but can’t, because you drank _way_ too much of that delicious Vikan wine.” 

Cheers erupted from the crowd.

“Hear hear!”

“My name is Crope.”

“You may call me Tibbett.”

“And before we can open the festival officially, we first must listen to a few messages Judge Madame Morrible has to share with us!”

Tibbett made a disgusted face as Crope mentioned the judge, getting another laugh from the crowd. 

The men took a deep bow, _too_ deep to be taken seriously, as Madame Morrible entered the stage. The foolish mood the boys had built up swiftly turned serious. Elphaba felt a cold shiver run down her spine at Morrible’s military posture and intimidating look. Her fishlike face was scanning the area. The gown she was wearing was extravagantly upperclass Gillikinese and richly accented. Her personality was far less celebratory.

“Citizens of Oz,” she greeted them in an authoritative voice. “Today’s celebrations might inspire misbehaviour, but do not forget that even on this day every Ozian will be held accountable to the law.”

She paused and stared the people down, almost one by one, with her cold gaze.

“Let me remind you that on this day of tricks and foolery, the Gale Force will be most alert. Particularly watching those trying to practice magic, which is forbidden by law. For whoever practises magic falsely projects their image in the Wizard’s name.”

The crowd dissolved into low murmurs by the sudden reminder, but it was overpowered by a loud cackle coming from the back of the crowd. All eyes turned towards the spectacle. Elphaba let her laughter die out, and the square full of people was terrifyingly quiet.

“Forgive me, but, _‘falsely project his image’?_ The sounds beyond pretentious,” Elphaba spoke up tauntingly. “Has his Wizardness become so delusional with power he considers himself a god?”

There were shocked gasps. Elphaba tried to challenge Morrible with her eyes, but the woman only gave her a bitter look in return.

“Such passion, so bright and early!” Crope quickly jumped in from the side, before the comment could escalate into something more.

“Is what I hear every morning before mass,” Tibbett went along and winked to the audience.

The crowd bursted into laughter and the tension was disrupted. The two men continued to ease the mood with their barely disguised vulgar jokes. They were a hit with the crowd. Morrible walked to the back to the stage where a big chair was set up. Once settled down, she let her eyes rest on Elphaba. As if she was deciphering all her secrets simply by staring at her.

Elphaba stared back, hoping the woman did not notice how chilling an effect her gaze had on her.

“... And let the Festival of Fools begin!”

Confetti bursted into the air and everyone cheered. The eye contact broke as Elphaba suddenly found herself in a stirring crowd trying to move to the many stalls and activities. For a moment she was lost, until two people popped up in front of her.

“Hello!”

Crope and Tibbett regarded her with big smiles. To Elphaba’s horror, up close she saw the suits were not only blindingly colourful, but also _sparkled._

Taking advantage of the moment of surprise, Crope and Tibbett looped their arms around Elphaba’s. She tried to wriggle loose, but the grip of the two men was stronger than she anticipated.

“Unhand me, you cretins,” she snarled.

They completely ignored her, mischief sparkling in their eyes.

“I feel like walking, Tibbett, where should we go to?”

“How about a visit to our blue diamonded friend?” 

“What an excellent idea!”

She growled. “If you think I’m going wherever you two weirdos-”

“Anddd we’re off!”

They pulled Elphaba along. She looked over her shoulder, seeing Glinda entering the stage. Once more, she tried to get out of the firm grip, without success. Elphaba had no other choice than to be guided away.

“The Gale Force could arrest you for abduction, you know.”

It wasn’t like she was afraid of getting hurt by them in the slightest, for all their banter they seemed harmless. But she _was_ annoyed.

“No need to worry about them, we’re well-known in the Gale Force.”

“I bet.”

“And they know we wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Crope finished Tibbett’s sentence. “Besides, with the new Captain in place we have nothing to worry about.”

“Why is that?” Elphaba asked distracted.

Tibbett followed her gaze and grinned. “Don’t fret. There will be enough time left to get to know our beautiful Captain.”

Her head snapped back at him. “What?”

“Oh would you look at that!” Tibbett pointed at his left. “A Munchkin marching band, how charming.”

They crossed another street and Elphaba had no idea where they were heading. She was amazed how carefree their step was. Not only did nobody scowl disgustingly at them, but they miraculously hadn’t bumped into someone the entire way. Crope and Tibbett seemed to follow a path that magically cleared as they walked it. Their footsteps light, almost as if they were floating through the City.

“Now Miss Elphaba, you must be wondering why we took some time out of our busy schedule to help you out.”

“You know what would help? Letting me go.” It hadn’t much impact, since her curiosity had outgrown her objections.

“You see the Festival of Fools is like our Lurlinemas,” Crope continued. “Presents and surprises everywhere.”

“But we never dared to even _dream_ of such a big surprise as you showing up.”

“And that feisty attitude, my my! Needless to say, we’re intrigued.”

Elphaba rolled her eyes, knowing where this was going. “By my green skin. Normally people are appalled by it, but I don’t exactly prefer fetishization either.”

“Fetishization!” They bursted into laughter.

“Oh no, Miss Elphaba, you misunderstood. We’re not trying to objectify you on any front.”

“Nor are we here to ask for sexual engagement.”

“At least not without your knowing consent.”

She gave up on figuring out whether they were serious or not.

“We are _genuinely_ intrigued,” said Crope. “We heard great things about you!”

“Was it the rumor I’m a demon or that I’m a hunchback?”

“Both,” Tibbett smiled heartingly. “But it appears you’re neither.”

“Contrary to what you might believe, your little fallout with Madame Morrible is why we singled you out.”

“You are not very fond of our dear old Wizard, are you?”

“Why should I be? He’s the man who enforced the Animal Banns and stripped rights from multiple ethnicities.”

“And yet he’s still in power.”

“Those who have power will do everything to keep it. Doesn’t make him a great politician.”

“Fascinating!”

They came to a halt and Elphaba had to orientate were they had ended up. Somewhere at the western part of the City. She could tell by the gigantic statue of a Gale Force member in the middle of the square. It was one of the few objects in this part of the city she could see from the bell tower. It was a lot bigger than she imagined it to be. Had they really walked that far in such a short amount of time?

Crope and Tibbett let go of her and tapped the shoulder of a man in front of them. 

“Yero our hero!”

The man turned around. His black skin was covered in blue diamond tattoos that dipped under his shirt. He was dressed festively in a deep purple cloth, but it was modest next those sparkly suits. Though the man seemed slightly embarrassed by the nickname, he still laughed genuinely.

“You two! Shouldn’t you be making trouble in the inner part of the city?”

“We came to drop off a surprise!”

They poked Elphaba gently in the ribs. “And so the bell ringer meets the prince.”

“Seems our work here is done. Ta ta!”

They weren’t gonna leave her here were they? Elphaba panicked, feeling lost without the two men to guide her.

“I hope you enjoyed the foreplay,” Crope winked at her.

He hooked his arm around Tibbett’s and walked off in that same weightless step they had arrived in.

“I…” she looked around bewildered. “I find that I have no idea what just transpired.”

“Seems a very reasonable response for someone who got plucked out by Crope and Tibbett,” the man smiled politely and held out his hand. “The name’s Fiyero.”

She shook it warily. “Elphaba. Why did those clowns bring me to you?”

“No idea. They always have a mind of their own, but they don’t select just anyone.”

“Lucky me,” she responded annoyed. “I guess I’ll be heading back then.”

“Oh no, you should stay a little longer now you’re here,” he said as a form of invitation. “My wife Samira is about to perform a traditional Vinkus dance. It’s rumored to enchant anyone who watches it.”

Well, she was already here, wasn’t she? Elphaba turned her attention to the small stage and thought she could wait in silence for the show to start. Fiyero thought differently.

“What do you know about the City?”

“Very little.”

“I thought you were the bell ringer of Notre Dame.”

“So?”

“You can watch everyone from up high.”

“The view doesn’t come with a pair of binoculars, I’m afraid.”

“Forgive me,” Fiyero gave a small apologetic bow. “It’s logical your aerial view could not make sense of what’s happening on the ground.”

Her brow furrowed at his vague reply. 

Her thoughts were overshadowed when the crowd cheered as a woman, Sarima, Elphaba guessed, appeared on stage. She had similar diamond tattoos on her body as Fiyero, and her dress matched her husband’s.

Elphaba didn't know anything about dancing, but she immediately knew Sarima was a natural. She danced to the music of an Arjiki flute player seated almost off stage. The melody was surprisingly melancholic; almost yearning. Combined with Sarima's sensual movements - which were performed with an undeniable strength - it evoked images of Vinkan deserts at night and braving Kumbricia's Pass in the burning sun. It was an ode to her country.

The song died out. Sarima took a bow and the audience snapped out of her spell. She received a tremendous and well-deserved applause. During the performance the square had become extremely crowded. 

“Where do all these people come from?”

“Where do they indeed.”

Fiyero was implying something differently than she had. Elphaba looked around and noticed how the crowd differed from the one at the Palace of Justice this morning. Scratch that, how it differed from the usual people she saw going on about their daily business in the Emerald City.

On any other day, it was rare to see an Animal cross the street. If they did, the would hurry from one place to the other. Now Elphaba saw multiple Animals standing in the crowd, laughing, enjoying themselves. She saw the pinkish skin of the Quadlings mingling perfectly with the traditional Vinkus clothes. It was beautiful to see the City so diverse.

But all these people didn’t _just_ come for the festival, did they? The realization dawned on her. This was how Emerald City was suppose to look like. She knew theoretically the Wizard had created an unsafe environment for a lot of Ozians, but to see it was something else.

“Do they all live here?” Elphaba asked shocked.

“Most of them, yeah.”

“Aren’t they afraid the Gale Force will arrest them?”

“Not today. The Festival of Fools is the only day of the year the persecution law is ignored.”

She looked skeptical. “And the Wizard holds his word? I heard Morrible just give an entire speech about how we should stay lawful.”

“Ah, Madame Morrible’s speech is just formalities,” he waved off. “It has no real meaning. Guards would only come in action if someone would do something dangerous like practicing magic. Authorities would shut down the Festival and nobody wants that on their conscious.”

“So you’re saying we can openly mock the Wizard today, no repercussions whatsoever?”

“Miss Elphaba, you seem to forget that hope goes a long way,” Fiyero said. “If for one day we can all pretend the world is how it’s suppose to be, then surely everyone will be content for the rest of the year.”

It clicked together. Riots. The Wizard let the Festival happen to prevent riots. Everyone who was being oppressed could blow off steam once a year. Complain a bit, but mostly celebrate, that today, they could be free.

How unstable it must be to have one day a year hold together an entire regime.

Fiyero smiled at her, knowing she had figured it out. He took a step closer so only Elphaba could hear the next few words. “If you ever find yourself in trouble, the Court of Miracles will find you.”

He stepped back, his eyes twinkling as Elphaba processed the information.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I must congratulate my wife on an excellent performance. Enjoy the rest of the festivities, Miss Elphaba.” He waved her goodbye and vanished into the crowd.

The Court of Miracles? That was the collective name for the slums. Named after the beggars who appeared to be severely injured to get tossed a few extra coins for their misery. In the evening, when they went back to their homes, all the blind could see, all the physically impaired could walk, and every other injured had been cured. It was a blatant scam, but a working one. The Wizard most certainly wasn’t going to help them, and as long as he wouldn’t, such miracles would continue to exist.

She did not know how such a poor district would be able to help her, but she did finally understand something she had not for a long time. Elphaba always thought as the Festival of Fools as an occasion for people to get carelessly drunk while wearing silly costumes. Now she saw what it truly meant. What it meant to places like the Court of Miracles. It was the only time of the year where the oppressed were embraced, celebrated even.

The rest of the day, Elphaba wandered around the City and caught herself enjoying the festival. The cultures she had read up on were displayed right in front of her in all their glory. She regretted not bringing some money with her and buy a few interesting looking books.

Time passed faster than anticipated and before long Elphaba had to make her way back to the inner city. She couldn’t help but pass over the bridge closest to the Palace of Justice. That was her mistake. As soon as she stepped on the island she noticed the difference in the crowd. In the western side of the city there were Arjikis, Animals, and Quadlings all celebrating together. She should’ve known they would be too terrified to show themselves in front of the Palace of Justice. Knowing that one wrong move would mean deportation.

This morning she hadn’t noticed, but except for a few rich Munchkins the majority of this crowd were Gillikinese, and they were _drunk._ The safety blanket she had been in at the west side of the city was ripped away. She was left completely vulnerable.

The first to notice here was a little Gillikinese boy who pointed at her curiously. “Is the green part of your costume?”

The question wasn’t directed to her, she realized, when his older brother turned around and met her eyes. He flashed a grin.

“No, Richie. That’s the demon from Notre Dame. It haunts little children at night.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh yes, I’ve seen it happen.”

Elphaba rolled her eyes and walked away from the ridiculous conversation, but the older boy sprinted in front of her and blocked the way. “Not so fast, green bean!”

“Get out of my way before I break your arms.”

Something hit her in the back of her head. It was squishy and smelled terribly. Rotten fruit.

“The demon is trying to attack my brother!” the boy screamed at the top of his lungs.

People around them looked up at the sudden commotion. Elphaba’s stomach sank. She pushed past the boy, but even the biggest steps could not outrun the mass the had turned against her.

More fruit flew in her direction, but as luck had it, most of the throwers were drunk and had terrible aim. Just a few more blocks and she could slip into the safe haven that was Notre Dame.

“Let’s see if that green hue comes off with a good scrub!”

Alarmed, Elphaba looked over her shoulder to see what was happening. The older brother had a bucket in his hands, water spilling over the edges. He fixated on her fearful eyes and threw the water in her direction. Elphaba spun around, trying to avoid any damage, but it wasn’t enough. The cold water hit her right shoulder. Her skin began to hiss and burn and sidder with pain. The crowd gasped in horror. Elphaba grasped her shoulder and bit her lip to stop herself from screaming. She wanted to run away to safety, but sank through her knees instead.

Above the howling of the entertained crowd, a familiar and thunderous voice shouted. “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves!”

The surrounding people immediately dispersed. Elphaba looked up to see a furious Frexspar towering above her. She was not sure if that anger was meant for the crowd or for her. 

“Come, Fabala.”

He brought her forcefully up to her feet and removed her hand protecting the wound. His brow furrowed as he inspected the injury. Maybe it was the pain, or maybe it was the stern look in Frex’s eyes, but Elphaba let him.

Frex took a step back and examined her disapprovingly before swatting her over the head.

“Stupid, stupid girl,” he muttered.

He grasped her arm and dragged her back to the church. This somehow brought her back to her senses. “I can walk perfectly fine on my own, _Father._ I’m not a child.”

“Have it your way.”

The rest of their walk was spent in awkward silence. A conversational state that was their default. Elphaba glanced at Frex, not knowing how to pin him down; another regular default. He did save her from more harm, and perhaps she should be grateful for that, but she couldn’t. Not when he didn’t even look her in the eye. It wasn’t as if she knew Frex as a nice man. He was _Frex,_ whatever that meant. No matter how relieved she was he had jumped in, no words of gratitude were able to get over her lips.

“Wait here, I’ll get the oil,” Frex said as they entered the church.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m very much capable to get it myself.”

“This stubbornness is _exactly_ why you got hurt today.”

She rolled her eyes. Apparently now that they were on holy ground, Frex had to atone for his deeds. She gave the instructions where to find the bottle anyway.

“What do you want me to do in the meantime?”

Frex was already halfway up the stairs. “It’s a church. Light a candle. Kneel and pray.”

“Hah! You clearly missed your opportunity as a comedian, Father,” she called after him. “Waste of talent.”

With a sigh she settled down on the steps of the stairs. If she was going to experience some sort of holy awakening, it most certainly wouldn’t be in this bloody church.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious how the city looks, I made an [overview of Emerald City](https://wickedlyqueer.tumblr.com/post/163721134219/this-is-a-real-map-of-paris-from-1618-that-i) out of an old Paris map on my blog. Also, thanks for reading my fic! :D


	4. Filthy Sinners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings, except that a certain event is repeated but in a lesser form. Anyway, here’s an Inspirational Chapter Quote:  
>  _“This is my church / This is where I heal my hurts / God is a DJ” - Faithless_

From the stage set in front of the Palace of Justice, Glinda could oversee the whole square, as the festivities unfolded. She stood next to Madame Morrible, who was sitting in a chair that had the extravagance of a throne. When Glinda had politely inquired after a few hours standing still if there was another chair available, Madame Morrible dismissed her with a wave of her hand. 

“You have to radiate power, dear. You’re already so little, if you sit down you’ll be overlooked.”

_Really, what was it with people commenting on her height? She was taller than those Munchkins!_

Nevertheless, the Feast of Fools appeared to be a success. There wasn’t much disobedience apart from drunken lads shouting complaints about the Wizard. As long as nobody started a riot Glinda could consider this a success as her first day as Captain.

From the briefing the day before she had expected more diversity amongst the crowd. She was warned to be on her guard for the beggars and thieves from the slums. When she walked past a few guards, she overheard them bragging about how much Animals and Winkies they were gonna arrest today.

Those guards were plain out of luck, for the crowd in front of her was mostly made out of the upperclass. She had always understood the Festival of Fools as an event for poor people, so recognizing most faces from the high society she lived in threw her off. Of course, none of those people were _actually_ celebrating the Festival. They were merely looking for cheap drinks and even cheaper exotics to show off to the rest of their Gillikinese friends.

A prompt example was walking right in front of the stage. The woman had a Vinkan wine in her hand and a shawl made out of fur wrapped around her neck. She was bragging to her indifferent husband how the Quadling who had sold the latest jewel on her hand had known _nothing_ about the real price and she might as well have ripped him off, that’s how cheap it was! Delightful! 

The lady, as if knowing she was being examined by Glinda, made eye contact. “Oh! A woman! A woman as the Captain of the Gale Force,” the Gillikin lady beamed. “What a relief! Oz must be at peace at last!”

Glinda bit the inside of her cheek, but she knew from the outside she appeared flattered and shone her most dazzling smile. “That is of course the aim, Madame.”

“Oh, you are a _delight!_ A woman with a job, how provincial! Isn’t it, darling?” The lady said to her husband without waiting for a response. “So provincial indeed!” 

If Glinda would restrain her smile some more she was afraid her face might break like porcelain.

The pair moved along the crowd, but not before Glinda could hear the lady exclaim: “Can you imagine? A woman in charge! Tonight we don’t have to lock our doors anymore for crime must truly be extinct with a _female_ Captain!”

Glinda let the smile drop as soon as the pair had lost interest in her, she side-eyed the lady and hoped she’d would choke on her wine-slurping, Animal-wearing, patronizing piece of-

 _Easy Glinda,_ she reminded herself. 

She let her eyes wander some more when she spotted a green face amongst the crowd. So Elphaba _had_ come. Although it did not appear she was participating in any of the activities and was heading back home.

Having nothing else worthwhile going on, Glinda blatantly watched Elphaba moving further away, until she was stopped by a little child. Glinda squinted her eyes to try and get a better view of the scene. Elphaba tried to move away, but was stopped again by a different child this time. Uneasiness settled inside her stomach. One of the kids threw something at her. Her eyes widened. Elphaba continued walking, but more people seemed to join in. Fruit. They were throwing rotten fruit. 

“Madame, permission to intervene?”

“Not yet.”

Glinda looked confused. This was in clear violation with their laws. “Madame?”

“A lesson needs to be learned.”

She could feel her throat dry up. “A civilian is being _attacked.”_

There was silence. Both women looked at the scene when someone attempted to throw a bucket full of water at Elphaba. Then, a complete surprise. The fruit didn’t seem to bother Elphaba much, but she painfully grasped at her shoulder where the water had hit her.

Water… _hurts_ her?

“Interesting.”

Her stomach turned. Madame Morrible seemed to enjoy the show, but Glinda could no longer watch.

“The archdeacon,” she started, carefully. “I visited his church last week. He seems to treat her like his daughter.”

That was an outrageous lie. Frexspar hadn’t much as mentioned Elphaba. Glinda had only heard rumors that he had taken in a ‘green demon’ twenty years ago. She had never believed those rumors up until she had seen it for herself.

She glanced at Morrible, “I wonder how he will react when he sees her tortured like this.”

“I believe you’ll get your answer soon enough.”

Glinda looked back at the scene, where Deacon Frex had entered. He whacked Elphaba over the head before dragging her back to Notre Dame. 

“It seems your help is no longer required.”

Dismissed, once again. Her anger rose, but as her hands started to tingle she immediately reminded herself to remain calm. This was neither the time nor place to throw a tantrum. There was plenty of time to prove her worth. And she _would_ prove her worth. It was all a matter of strategy, just like her father had taught her. Observe the situation, deduce the several outcomes, and choose the right one. 

Although sometimes there was a choice between what _was_ right and what _felt_ right. 

Glinda waited a few minutes for the perfect moment when there was no longer a correlation to be expected between the spectacle and her announcement that she would check in with some of her commanders. With a firm nod from Madame Morrible as her approval, Glinda made sure to take the one road leading to Notre Dame that could not be seen from the Palace of Justice. 

She slipped inside the church, and was surprised to see it completely deserted. Not that it _should_ have been a surprise. Who goes to church when a festival that celebrates everything sinful was in town?

"I didn't peg you for being very religious," a voice echoed through the church.

Startled, Glinda looked at her left, and saw Elphaba sitting on the stone stairs leading up to the bell tower. For someone who was _green_ she sure managed to blend in with her surroundings well. 

"I'm not religious," she said, and when she saw Elphaba’s eyebrows perk up at that, quickly added. "That is... I'm still undecided."

“I see.” 

Elphaba stood up and walked towards her, but still left a considerable distance between them. At least now she wasn’t hiding in the shadow anymore and Glinda could see the damage that had been done. Elphaba hadn’t bothered picking up the tomato that was still sitting on her hair. Her dress was stained, but Glinda’s eyes got sucked to the bruised spot on her right shoulder. 

“Then, why _are_ you here?”

 _Guilt._

But that wasn’t an answer she could say out loud. Glinda pointed quickly at the shoulder and for some reason stepped closer. “Are you hurt?” 

“Why do you care?” Elphaba asked, covering her left hand over the burn.

“I’m a servant of the public. It’s my duty to protect people.”

Elphaba looked at her for a moment. “I thought your duty was to protect the Wizard.”

That was a rabbit hole she prefered to not debate with Elphaba. Every moment she spent here, the more suspicious Morrible would get.

She took a step closer. “Do you have something that can treat your wounds?”

“Diverted that question like an ace.”

“It’s not of importance.”

“I’d say the Wizard would disagree.”

“He’s a powerful man, he can protect himself,” another step, “speaking of diversion, you didn’t answer my question.”

“I do have an oil, yes. Frex is fetching it as we speak.”

Now Elphaba took a turn to step closer. The five metre distance had shrunk down to less than two. 

“Now, Captain, it might not come as a surprise to you that it’s in my nature to be suspicious of others.”

Another step. Glinda had to look up to remain eye contact. 

“It seems highly unlikely that on your first day on the job you just happen to wander into Notre Dame when I just took a beating.”

Glinda felt a tingling in her fingertips. She made a fist to control the sensation.

“You came here to see if I was hurt,” Elphaba said matter-of-factly.

“Yes.”

“Then you saw me get hurt.”

Glinda swallowed. “Yes.”

“I don’t need your pity, Miss Glinda.”

“Who said I came out of pity?” Panic leaked into her voice as she desperately tried to shake off the now burning feeling in her hands.

Elphaba frowned. “You came to mock me?”

“Lurline, _no!”_

She lost control. Just for a clock tick, but the impact was immediate. The burning energy poured out of her hands. Flickering candles surrounding them bursted into big flames. Glinda instinctively took a step back, frightened of the sudden power that had come from her. 

Elphaba dropped her left hand from her shoulder to cover her eyes from the sudden bright light. The flames danced in front of them, the heat as strong as a roaring bonfire. 

As spontaneous as it had come, the flames died out again, as if a wind had blown through Notre Dame. All that was left was smoke drifting gently in the air and a strong smell of phosphor. 

How just a few moments could betray her so viciously. Her last outburst had been years ago… Magic. The one thing she always made sure to conceal. That she had promised her parents from a young age to keep a secret. 

_“Never lose control, Galinda. Never let your emotions run away from you. That’s when your magic is strongest. And the world will punish you for it.”_

Only a full-blown assassination on the Wizard himself was considered more treasonous than magic. There was no mercy for witches in the land of Oz. 

And Elphaba had seen her use it.

Terrified of what she must think of her, Glinda dared a look in her direction. Elphaba had dropped her hand and was staring at the candles still.

“Captain Glinda of the Arduennas.”

She met Glinda’s eyes, with a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “A filthy sinner like the rest of us.”

Her face flushed. 

“I’m not! This is-” she desperately sought for words. “I’m not a practicer!”

“Of course not,” that mysterious smile still on her face.

“Miss Elphaba, please don’t-” 

Glinda stopped in the middle of her pleads as she heard footsteps echoing from the stone staircase. 

“Fabala, really, your instructions made no sense. This bottle was nearly impossible to find, and I’m not even sure if it’s the correct -” Frexspar halted his steps when he saw they had company. “Oh, Captain Glinda. What an honour you decided to visit Notre Dame today.”

Elphaba didn’t waste a second to run and snatch the bottle out of his hand. She immediately applied it to her burnt skin. 

Glinda watched as Elphaba’s body released the tension she was holding the more oil she applied, and then realized she hadn’t answered Frex yet. 

“A small detour,” she gave him the most charming smile she could muster. “But I’m afraid I must go back to my duties.”

“So soon?”

The words had come from Elphaba. 

“Yes. I need to be-” _anywhere but here,_ “at the Palace of Justice. I have to overlook the Festival, you see.”

Without any chance for objections she said her goodbyes. “Deacon Frex, thank you for your hospitalities.”

“Miss Elphaba,” she mumbled, barely making eye contact. “It was a pleasure to meet you again.”

“Oh, believe me,” Elphaba said. “The pleasure was all mine.”

With her cheeks flushing for a second time, Glinda did not know how fast she could turn her heel and get the hell out of this blasted church. 

Outside, Glinda welcomed the cool winter air. She took a few calming breaths and made sure her hands were no longer glowing. She did not bother to look at the Notre Dame as she stalked off. Hoping for the life in her that she never had to go back inside, and never _ever_ had to see the mysterious bell ringer again.


	5. Dr. Dillamond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning(s):** mentions / discussions of death

Glinda’s wish to never again enter Notre Dame held true for about three months. In that time she had managed to scale the ranks of the Gale Force: from Captain all the way up to _delivery girl._ Madame Morrible had called her in today to deliver some mail to Deacon Frexspar. When Glinda tried to object - as far as she dared in the presence of the Judge - Morrible gave her a dangerous look.

“This is highly sensitive information, Captain. It came directly from the Wizard himself. We wouldn’t want this to fall in the wrong hands, now would we?”

“Of course not, but there are plenty of loyal Gale Force members who would be happy to oblige.”

“And you are one of them, aren’t you dear?” Morrible said with a menacing smile, waving the letter in front of Glinda.

So here she was: on her way to that church she had sworn to never visit again, the letter clutched in her hand. What a joke. As Captain she had expected her job to be a bit more exciting than this. All she had done these past months was stand around and be dismissed for tasks she wanted to do. She served the Wizard, but followed orders from Morrible, who did not seem to like her in the slightest. In fact, Glinda was pretty sure she was keeping important information from her. Distracting her with useless stuff to keep her occupied. 

Had her father delivered mail as well? What was so important about this letter anyway? And if Morrible wasn’t giving her any information, wouldn’t it be better if she would go after the truth herself?

Glinda halted in her tracks, staring at the letter. 

_Observe, deduce, choose._

Her hands trembled. She turned the letter around only to see it closed with a waxed seal. Never mind. It would be too obvious. 

She entered Notre Dame and asked one of the pastors about Frex’s whereabouts. She was lead down the corridors and at the end of the hall was a small private room for the archdeacon. 

“One moment.” Frexspar scribbled down the rest of his sentence before looking up. 

“Captain Glinda,” he said surprised. “What brings you here?”

“I have a message for you from the Wizard,” Glinda got directly to the point and handed it over.

“A letter? Delivered by the Captain of the Gale Force?” 

“Madame Morrible’s orders.” 

“Very well, I will make sure to read it carefully,” he said, but put the letter to the side. “Surely you didn’t come all this way just to deliver a letter?”

Having someone else speak out loud her complaints made her want to downplay the entire affair.

“I saw it as an opportunity to take a nice stroll through Emerald City. The spring weather makes the city glow,” she smiled.

“Then you must finish your tour up in the Bell Tower. The view of the city is nowhere more beautiful.” 

That did sound tempting. The view was astonishing and Morrible couldn’t order her around with more useless tasks. Glinda would gladly accept, if not for _one_ small detail…

“No, that’s okay. I’m sure I have taken up too much of your time already.”

“I insist! See it as a reward for the personal delivery. You know the way, so stay as long as you want.” 

“I couldn’t,” Glinda tried, running out of excuses. “I would only bother Miss Elphaba.”

“Fabala? Nonsense! All that girl does is read.” Frex waved it off, but then peered over his glasses. “Or is _she_ the one bothering you?”

“Not at all!” she stammered, a blush creeping on her face. 

Oz, usually she was better at this but somehow Frexspar still bought it.

“Good, good,” he nodded to himself. “I know she can cause quite the commotion. But an acquaintanceship with someone her age would be beneficial. The only one who bothers talking to her is me, and I’m...”

He frowned, looking for a way to end the sentence. “I’m a busy man.”

It sounded awful. Did he even _like_ Elphaba? She remembered how Frexspar had hit Elphaba in public. Was that the kind of treatment she received from the one person that bothered to talk to her? No wonder she locked herself up in that tower.

“I’ll gladly take your offer to visit the Bell Tower,” Glinda said. “It’s definitely a view I don’t mind seeing twice.” 

She bid her goodbyes and made her way up. To her surprise, Elphaba wasn’t slouched down in the chair she sat in when they first met. 

“Miss Elphaba?”

No reply. 

Relief washed over her. Elphaba must be out. That would make things a lot easier. 

With a soft hum she walked up the remaining stairs, hoping the rotten wood wouldn’t snap under her heels. She pushed the door open to the roof and was greeted by the spring sun. It was one of the first days of the year it was nice to be outside again. 

When her eyes got accustomed to the bright light it was just as she remembered. To her right was the ledge and the city more than fifty metres beneath her. There was a small path so you could walk to the other tower, and on her left was a low roof that, to her surprise, was occupied. Elphaba was sitting on the edge, engrossed by her book. 

“Father, for the last time I do not care if you think the bells need another polish. They’re ringing just fine. Get over yourself.” She said in one breath, refusing to look up. 

Well, this was awkward. 

“I’m afraid Frexspar isn’t here.”

Alarmed by the different voice than she was expecting, Elphaba looked up. “Oh, Captain Glinda. You honour me with your presence.”

For once, she didn’t sound full-on sarcastic, but more like it was meant to be an amicable tease.

“How could I not visit?” said Glinda, making sure her posture and tone didn’t give away she had been caught off guard. “The Notre Dame is one of the most beautiful churches, after all.”

She really believed this. There was something very charming about the Gothic cathedral. How the flying buttresses supported the thinner walls that tried to reach for heaven. The stained glass windows, glowing with sunlight and casting colourful rose-patterned images onto the church floor. Even the gargoyles had their purpose, both practically and spiritually. 

“Wouldn’t you agree the people no longer have any fascination for Gothic architecture?”

Elphaba closed the book she was reading and put it in her lap, giving Glinda her undivided attention. “I can’t say I ever cared for it.”

“Perhaps you have grown accustomed to it and can no longer appreciate its beauty,” Glinda let her hand stroke over the stone railing and let out a sigh. “It’s such a shame it has recently fallen into decay.”

“How so?”

She lit up enthusiastically. “Well, while the Gothic style has gone very underappreciated these days, Notre Dame is also so much more than that. A century ago, this would’ve been a totally different church. There was a big spike in anti-unionism sentiments within Emerald City about fifty years ago. This was mostly because the Ozma felt threatened by the growing power of the unionists and encouraged Lurlinists to vandalism so she could remain in power.”

“I’d argue the root of that conflict was started by some unionist ministers who felt overconfident by their growing numbers and tried to separate religion, or rather Lurlinism from politics, but sure, continue.”

“Right. Anyway, a lot of unionist churches got vandalized, including Notre Dame. And that is one instance of hundreds of years of small changes. Different rulers, different zeitgeist, new technological development. Notre Dame is a perfect example of these changes. Architecture does not preserve history, even if we like to think it does. Instead, it’s a reflection of science and art and culture as a whole. It’s, as it were, history _itself._ ”

Glinda decided to stop herself before she could go any more off the rails. Architecture has always sparked something inside her, but she had been chastised one too many times that rattling off wasn’t very ‘ladylike’. Her mother’s words echoing how conversations needed a certain flow, and going on a _word-rampage_ didn’t make for good conversation. 

At least, not in the high society she grew up in, but Elphaba wasn’t high society. She stared at her for completely different reasons. As if Glinda had just become more fascinating.

“Seems like you could write a book about it.”

“I’m afraid you’d be the only one who would read it,” Glinda said with a sad smile. “You appear to read anything that’s written.” 

“If only I could.” 

“What about now?” said Glinda genuinely interested and sat down next to her. “What are you reading right now?”

“Oh.” Elphaba grasped the book tighter, as if wanting to protect it. “Just re-reading some biology stuff.”

“Can I take a look?” 

Elphaba looked hesitantly from the book to Glinda, but then gave it to her. Glinda saw the lengthy title, but to her surprise there was no author’s name on the cover. 

“It’s one of the few published books by Dr. Dillamond,” Elphaba informed her.

Glinda flinched at the name and grew quiet. She stared at the cover, and had lost all interest in the book. But she didn’t want to let go of it. She didn’t allow herself to look away. Not yet.

“It’s probably one of the few copies that didn’t get burnt,” said Elphaba awkwardly, to fill the silence. “Not that it has any valuable information in it, he got censored well before his death. I believe his real research never got published. He was a Goat you see.”

“I know.” Glinda hated how rough her voice sounded.

“You know of his work?” Elphaba asked intrigued.

She shook her head. “I _knew_ him.” 

The memories she has tried to suppress flooded back into her brain. It became too much. She quickly handed the book back to Elphaba, who looked at her for answers. 

“He…” Glinda pressed her eyes shut and tried to compose herself as best as she could. She wrestled to not let any tears form into her eyes. “He was one of my tutors.”

“How is that possible? Women aren’t allowed to attend Shiz.”

“This wasn’t at Shiz,” Glinda exhaled sharply and opened her eyes. If she could redirect the subject even slightly, she would be fine. “I’ve been getting private education ever since I was little.”

Elphaba’s eyebrows rose. “How unusual.” 

“My father’s idea.”

She gave a small smile, one she knew that would fit the situation perfectly. It invited to ask more about her parents, her education, her wealth. Easy conversational pieces she had mastered a long time ago.

Had it always felt so much like lying?

What if - No. She didn’t trust herself to talk about Dr. Dillamond. It was best to keep the conversation light, for her own sake. It would’ve worked too, if Elphaba hadn’t asked any further.

“I’m guessing he taught you after Animals were no longer allowed to have public employment?” 

“Even Goats need to make a living, don’t they?” 

A lighthearted joke that fell completely flat on delivery. Part of her desperately clawed to lock the door and ignore the loud knocking that came from outside. A different, small, but growing part of her wondered what would happen if she opened that door. Just a creek.

“And your parents were accepting of an Animal teaching you?”

“Of course!”

Elphaba huffed. They both knew she lied.

“No, they weren’t,” Glinda admitted quietly. “They hated it. But no other tutor was willing to teach a woman on academic level.”

“Would you look at that, oppression even necks the most privileged.” 

“I don’t think of myself as oppressed,” Glinda stated before realizing she had replied straightforward to a sarcastic remark. Oh well, she had her attention now. “Not in the way Animals are at least. I may not have the same freedoms as a man, but I’m still part of high society.”

“So the worth of women’s rights should only be measured to your standard of living?”

“Of course not,” Glinda frowned. “You think me so shallow?”

“I don’t know what to think of you, Miss Glinda.”

There was a honesty in Elphaba’s voice that almost intimidated her. People always had opinions. Mostly good ones too when it came to Glinda of the Arduennas. She wasn’t used to bad opinions of her, but even that she preferred over having none at all. At least a bad impression could be mended.

“What do you mean by that?”

Elphaba shrugged. “It means what it means. I don’t know you well enough to have formed an opinion. And even if I had, I don’t think it would matter.”

This shocked Glinda to her core. In the world she was from everyone had an opinion, and everyone thought theirs was the most important in all of Oz. Of course this elitism was disguised by light chatter and social dress codes, but anyone who could read between the lines knew what conversation was really going on underneath.

Elphaba’s brutal honesty was not something she was used to. In a way it was refreshing, freeing even. In many other ways, it was utterly terrifying.

“I have to disagree, Miss Elphaba. It matters to me. We have met twice before. You can’t deny that at the very least you’d have an _impression_ of someone you’ve met before.”

“Hm, well in that case I believe I made my impression very clear last time.”

Glinda’s cheeks burned with shame, feeling the same heat she felt that day when she accidentally magicked the candles.

“You seem quite powerful,” Elphaba continued nonchalantly, none the wiser. “I wouldn’t be able to conjure up something like that. Not that I am very interested in developing my magic skills, there are other subjects that I prefer studying.”

Somewhere in this conversation, Glinda was _sure_ , her brain must’ve malfunctioned. Elphaba talked about magic as if she was explaining a cooking recipe. Magic was meant to be disguised, not discussed. 

“Slow down,” was all she could say. “You… have magic too?”

“Miss Glinda, have you perhaps forgotten that I am _green_?”

Elphaba gave her a teasing smile. Glinda could tell this was a rare occurrence. It looked good on her too; it made her seem younger. No, it made her seem her age. Which _was_ young. Oz, they were both still so young.

“How could I forget if you keep reminding me, Miss Elphaba?” 

“It’s a habit, I’m afraid. I keep reminding since people never notice it themselves.”

Glinda laughed. “You terrible tease.” Then she stopped, letting the realness of Elphaba’s sentence sink in. “You say your impressions of others do not matter, yet that’s all you’re being judged by.”

Elphaba shrugged. “That judgement is not constitutionalized however. Some are not as lucky.” 

The subject had returned to Dr. Dillamond. 

“I guess you’re right,” Glinda said. “But it doesn’t justify people treating you so poorly.”

“The decline of Animals rights is far more important.”

“Using that logic we are only allowed to focus on the most devastating events, which is counterproductive. I agree, the condition in which the Animals are living right now demand our attention, but that doesn’t mean we should stop caring about everything else that matters.”

Elphaba actually looked impressed. 

“You’ve thought about this.”

“Obviously, he was my tutor wasn’t he?” 

She hadn’t meant to sound so catty, but Elphaba didn’t take any offense. 

“Can you tell me about him?”

Glinda averted her eyes back to the sky. “It won’t be a very satisfying tale, I’m afraid.”

“Tell me anyway.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Glinda’s lips. The gentle probing actually reminded her of him. 

“What can I say? He was a brilliant scholar whose voice should’ve been heard by many.” 

“Did you talk about the Animal Banns? His theories?”

“You must be joking. My parents were already mortified they had to hire him, and only found satisfaction in the knowledge that they could pay him less than any human tutor. Can you even imagine their reaction if he would talk about such subjects?”

“Right, I guess not. Stupid question,” Elphaba muttered more towards herself. 

In her haste, Glinda had made it sound as if here parents were incredibly cruel. Not that any of those things were untrue, but she had conveniently left out the part where she would laugh along. An embarrassing truth. Still, it felt more shameful to Dr. Dillamond’s memory to leave it out.

“Now you must not think ill of my parents, for I was no better. I was seventeen and naive. I considered it punishment that a _Goat_ was suppose to teach me. While I neglected work wherever I could, he kept being a patient tutor. And he could never pronounce my name right,” she smiled at that. “It’s G _a_ linda, I’d always say, the proper Gillikinese pronunciation.”

“Goats can’t-”

“I know,” Glinda nodded. “He tried, but he always kept pronouncing it as _Glinda_. Eventually I gave up on correcting him. Probably around the same time I realized the merits of his teachings.”

But by then it was already too late.

She looked down, seeing his house before her. The door was forced opened, and all furniture turned over. Papers scattered everywhere. 

“The official reports say,” Elphaba paused. “He never committed suicide, did he?”

“Of course not. A pathetic cover-up,” Glinda said in a disgusted voice. “He was murdered.”

Dr. Dillamond’s dead body on the floor, soaked in blood. She wished she could erase that picture out of her brain.

“I knew it. It was too convenient to be true. They stole his real research too, didn’t they?”

“I don’t know.” Knots twisted in her stomach. “Whatever they were looking for, I’m pretty sure they found it.”

“Hell and Oz,” Elphaba mumbled.

“I didn’t even get to pay my respects,” she said quietly. “My parents forbade me to go to his funeral. It wasn’t _proper_ society behaviour.” 

How she had screamed and cried. How she had threatened to run away. Animals deserved the same respect. _He_ deserved that respect. More than anyone else. In the end she hadn’t had the guts to disobey.

Elphaba looked at her. “You changed your name though.” 

“It was the least I could do.”

But it wasn’t enough. It never was. 

She let out a deep breath, and with that, seemed to breathe out the heavy memories that had been bottled up inside her. A silenced settled between them, but Glinda was grateful that Elphaba didn’t push any further. She looked over the city, with a strange form of relief. But when she saw the Palace of Justice towering above the houses, everything fell back into perspective.

Quickly, she stood up. “I’m sorry. This is highly improper. I shouldn’t have talked about it in the first place.”

“No,” Elphaba got off the ledge as well. “I’m glad you did. I’ve always admired Dr. Dillamond’s work. It’s unjust what has happened to him.”

“It’s a shame you never met him. I’m sure he would’ve liked you,” Glinda said earnestly. Better than me anyway, she thought. 

Elphaba looked at her with those intense eyes. If only she’d know what answers she was looking for. What she thinking, or more importantly, what she was _seeing._

“A-Anyway, I should go back to work.”

She was ready to walk off when Elphaba spoke up. “Glinda, you do realize the Gale Force was ordered to kill Dr. Dillamond, right?” 

She wasn’t sure what to react to first. The fact that Elphaba had dropped the honorific, not to mock her, but to show familiarity. Or that Elphaba had expressed actual _concern_ for her. 

“You seem under the impression that I ever had a choice in my future.” 

Elphaba closed her mouth, not expecting that answer. “I just… I thought since you are Captain, you could be the change Oz needs. You have power!”

A hollow laugh slipped from her throat. “No. I don’t. I’m only a prop. All I need to use is my charming smile, just like you said when we first met.”

Elphaba had the decency to look ashamed. Her cheeks even turned a darker green. “I shouldn’t have said that. They were simply prejudices.”

“But those prejudices is what they’re using me for. They wouldn’t let someone like _me_ become Captain in a time of war,” it pained her to say it out loud. “That’s why people are relieved to see I’m Captain. It means Oz is at peace.”

“But you’re educated. You _have_ the skills, don’t you?”

“Does it matter? I’m just a pretty picture that embodies prosperity. That’s all that will ever be needed from me,” she shrugged helplessly. “It just took me a while to accept it.” 

Elphaba’s eyes softened. “You could be so much more.”

It broke her heart to know she wouldn’t. She shouldn’t. 

There was always going to be a ceiling. The more you smiled, the more you agreed with the people in power, the higher you could get, but only as far as they wanted you to go. That’s why she had been able to become Captain. Not by going against the grain or challenging those in power, but by being exactly the person they wanted her to be. It was a carefully constructed mask Glinda had been building since a very young age. 

How much it terrified her, that Elphaba had not only discovered that mask, but was actively trying to rip it off.

“I have a few notes left from Dr. Dillamond’s classes,” Glinda said, despite her better judgement. “Don’t expect much they’re not the heart of his research, but it comes closer than the books that were published. I could bring them some time, if you’re interested.”

“I’d like that,” she replied. “You’re welcome whenever.”

Glinda smiled at that. “Till the next time then, Elphaba.”


	6. Only For The View

“Pardon me, are you Captain Glinda of the Gale Force?” 

A young man tried to capture her attention on her weekly patrol through Emerald City. It was not uncommon that citizens would come up to her. Every once awhile a Gilikinese thanked her for the peace that the Gale Force brought them. Most of the time, she got compliments for her appearance. Although never unappreciated, she had been used to getting them all her life. This man however, was entirely too serious to shower her in any kind of admiration. 

“I am, and you are?” she inquired politely.

“Fiyero Tigelaar, Captain. I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time to discuss a concern of mine.”

She nodded. “If you keep it short.”

“Of course! You see my people, that is the Arjikis who live in Emerald City, are afraid upcoming rules will force us back to the Vinkus. Even though we have built a life here. Some were even born here,” Fiyero rattled off quickly. “I know this isn’t exactly your field of expertise as Captain, but the Wizard has denied us every request for an audience.”

Glinda had got an audience with the Wizard only once, when she had to prove she could take over her father’s responsibilities. He had appeared as an omniscient voice in the enormous Throne Room. If the Wizard didn’t talk to his staff, and didn’t grand audiences with the public, then what exactly _did_ he do all day?

“You must be busy so I shall take no longer of your time,” Fiyero drew her out of her thoughts. “I have it written down in more detail, so you can take a look whenever.”

He carefully handed over a stack of papers and looked her firmly in the eye, dropping any pretense. “There is some important stuff in here.”

Without any goodbye, he was out of her sight. Glinda looked confused around her, to see which direction he had gone in, but Fiyero appeared to have vanished. 

Glinda put the papers safely in her bag. Making sure that these would not go to the Palace of Justice, but instead be read in the safety of her home. 

\--

At midday she made her way up to Notre Dame, as she had been doing more and more the past few weeks. It was a safe haven during breaks where Madame Morrible couldn’t reach her. Whenever the weather allowed it, she could find Elphaba reading on the rooftop. They’d share food and thoughts. Elphaba would always try to provoke and engage Glinda in the topics, but truth to be told, she’d rather listen to Elphaba talk passionately. It was inspiring to see her be so completely in her element. 

Glinda opened the door and was greeted by a small smile from Elphaba.

“Hello again.”

“Hello Elphie.”

She couldn’t remember why or when she started calling her _Elphie_. It just felt natural. Sometimes she wondered if Elphaba had even noticed. Surely she would be someone who despised nicknames, especially ones so seemingly childish.

“May I join you?”

Elphaba patted the stone ledge as a gesture of invitation, but her focus went back to the book lying in her lap.

“There are a few sandwiches left, if you’re hungry.”

Glinda hopped on the ledge and plucked a sandwich out of the basket. She counted the ones that were left and came to the conclusion that Elphaba hadn’t had lunch yet. She reached for another one and waved it over the book she was reading.

“Careful!” Elphaba jerked the book away. “There’ll be crumbs everywhere!”

“You’re in that hyperfocused headspace again where you’re not taking care of yourself. Eat.”

Elphaba set the book aside and took the sandwich reluctantly. “You’re force feeding me.”

“Your tummy will thank you.”

Glinda watched as Elphaba absentmindedly nibbled on her food, the book lying next to her drawing more and more of her attention. If Glinda wanted to be ignored during lunch, she would’ve gone home where her father hid behind the newspaper and her mother would babble about random etiquettes to nobody in particular.

In a swift move Glinda reached over and snatched the book.

_“Hey!”_

“What’s so interesting about -”

Glinda stopped mid-sentence. Why was she still reading Dr. Dillamond’s notes? They were just a couple of pages and she had dropped them off weeks ago. 

Much time to think about it she had not, because Elphaba launched forward for a counter attack. Glinda quickly hide the book behind her back, out of reach. 

“Give it back!”

Her long arms wielding for the book. Glinda was acutely aware of the little space between them. She felt Elphaba’s breath on her skin and her head started spinning. She tried to move back a bit to catch her breath, but on the small ledge she lost her balance, and let out a yelp. 

A steady arm wrapped around her torso just in time. She landed neatly on both feet, instead of a head dive to the ground. 

“Are you okay?”

Her heart was beating in her chest. From the adrenaline of the fall or the rush of heat in her stomach she was not sure. “Thanks to you.”

The door slammed open.

“Fabala!” Frexspar’s murderous look changed into one of confusion, then mistrust. “Miss... Glinda?”

They quickly pulled apart. Like a couple of school children that were caught sneaking around. Although if that was the scenario, what did they have to hide?

The suspicion in Frex’s eyes dissolved. He directed a thunderous look that went right past Glinda.

“Fabala.” 

He stretched out his hand and held out a roll of parchment. He threw one end of it in the air, and the scroll rolled out over the balcony. A flair for the dramatic. Like other residents in Notre Dame.

“By the Unnamed God what is the meaning of this?”

Elphaba could not hide her grin. “It appears to be blank parchment, Father.” 

“Hundreds! _Thousands_ of scrolls were delivered to Notre Dame just now! The entire entrance is cluttered!”

“Oh, don’t be so ridiculous, Father. I’ve only put an order in for fifty scrolls. Either stop exaggerating or learn how to count.”

“Why do you even-” he knew he wouldn’t get a straight answer. “Never mind. I want all this gone! My church is not some factory or- or post mail service for you to take advantage of!”

“Will you calm down? They didn’t have that much at hand when I visited, otherwise I would’ve dragged the damn things myself.”

“And you will drag those darn things yourself! They are an eyesore to my church!” 

“It’s not even _your_ church. According to unionism the Unnamed God-”

“Before evening mass!”

“I _will_ , Father,” she replied agitated. 

“I count on it,” he bristled, and before leaving remembered his manners long enough to give a polite nod in Glinda’s direction. “Goodday to you, Captain.”

He turned around and closed the door, only realizing last moment he probably shouldn’t slam it shut in such high company.

“By Lurline, he doesn’t even look you in the eye!” Glinda exclaimed indignantly, and settled back on the ledge. 

“That’s part of the Frexspar Charm.” 

She noticed the name switch. “Does he tell you to address him as father?”

Elphaba chuckled. “Oh no, he hates being addressed so parental.”

“Did he really...” Glinda realized she was about to step over a very personal boundary. “I mean…”

“Did he really take me in?” Elphaba finished her sentence. “Yeah, that’s what he tells me anyway. He found me abandoned on the steps of Notre Dame and I guess pitied me? Who knows. But he never took care of me, not really anyway.”

She said all this as if she was reciting a dictionary. 

“But you couldn’t have possibly taken care of yourself, could you?” Glinda asked horrified, seeing a small little green baby walk, talk, and act like an adult. 

“Of course not, I’m green not a deity. No, this naggy, pain in the ass, old woman called Nanny made sure I didn’t die.” 

Unlike with Frex, Elphaba didn’t have to pretend to care about the woman. It was clear Nanny had meant something to her. It reminded Glinda of her own Ama Clutch, who had to retire about half a year ago, once she served roasted socks for dinner. 

“Don’t get me wrong, she disliked me for all the same reasons Frex does, but Nanny disliked everything,” Elphaba said amused. “That made all the difference.”

“Did she retire?”

“No, she died, actually.”

In a reflex she put her hand on her shoulder. “Elphie, I’m so sorry.” 

Elphaba tensed at the contact, but only for a moment. “It’s alright, a long time has passed since then.”

Glinda gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze and even though she didn’t want to let go, decided that she should. 

“It’s funny, Frex and I always agreed Nanny would be too stubborn to die,” she frowned. “It was about the only thing we ever agreed on, and we were still wrong.”

Elphaba fell silent. Her gaze darted around, desperately scanning for a subject change that wasn’t so personal. Glinda thought she might as well oblige, since there was one question left unanswered.

“So uhh, why all the parchment?”

“It’s a surprise.”

\--

It was the start of a beautiful evening when Glinda made her way through the city. This week was beginning to feel a little all too suffocating, and she hoped some fresh air would help clear her head. 

Last night she finally had found the time to read the papers Fiyero had given her. Part of her wished she hadn’t, for it had raised her concerns a great deal. Then there was Madame Morrible breathing down her neck. It was hardly anything new, but that didn’t make her any less terrifying.

Finally, as the steady taps of Ama Vimp’s heels behind her irritably reminded her, there was home life. As long as she remained Captain, she had to reside with her parents. She would remain Captain until she was married. And if tonight’s dinner was anything to go by, those wedding bells could not ring fast enough.

Honestly, she blamed her mother. She had detested the idea of Glinda getting a job ever since Highmuster had suggested it several years ago. But she kept quiet, and watched from a distance as Glinda learned the trait, knowing that one day, she would get her way.

Oh yes, credit was due, because Larena Arduenna had known all along that the rules of society were on her side. There was a short time frame in which a woman could get married, and time was ticking for Glinda. After all, a society woman could not have a job _and_ be married. The scandal! Only poor women helped their husbands, like those Munchkins and Winkies.

“Steady on, dearie,” Ama Vimp called her. “These bones aren’t what they used to anymore.”

In her frustration she had unconsciously picked up the pace, and the old woman was hobbling to keep up. Not that Ama Vimp was to be underestimated. She may be old, but Glinda had already learned there was a sharp edge to her.

“Apologies, Ama Vimp. A nasty habit, I’m afraid,” she said sickeningly sweet.

“Learned it on the job, did you?”

There it was! Her edge did not disappoint. 

How she missed Ama Clutch dearly. The old fool, who had been her minder all her life, and had slowly decayed into madness. She had to retire just a few weeks before Glinda became Captain. A moment she had wanted to share with her, for her Ama truly was proud of her accomplishments.

Never had she imagined to need another Ama besides Ama Clutch. After she got hospitalized, Glinda hoped her job as Captain would give her enough of a title to no longer require one. Her parents thought differently. Only during Captain duties she was allowed to go unaccompanied, every other moment of the day, Ama Vimp was hovering next to her. 

Which was an incredible inconvenience, especially now she had tasted the freedom that came with her job. Maybe that’s why she had such a row with her parents today. She had to sacrifice too much for marriage. It looked as unappealing as it was necessary. If she was trained to become Captain of the Guard since her teens, she was trained to become a wife since birth.

They had reached the outskirts of the Gillikinese district, and were close to the centre of the inner city. That meant Ama Vimp would call any second now that they should head back. That was the last thing Glinda wanted. She needed to be somewhere else, and preferably, she would be there alone.

Maybe she could walk fast enough to abandon her Ama. It was cruel, but she would get over it. If only she could go right this next turn and -

“Miss Glinda, dear, we mustn’t walk off track,” Ama Vimp said in her signature sharp tone.

Lurline, what was she, a _hawk_? She barely had set a foot around the corner!

“Whoops!” Glinda giggled innocently. “How silly of me, these streets look all the same, don’t they?”

“Hmhm.”

Amas, it turned out, were a species not easily fooled. 

“Let’s head back. We’ve wandered off quite a bit and it won’t be long before the sun goes down.”

“But-”

Ama Vimp tutted and grabbed her arm to drag her back. No, this was definitely not the direction Glinda wanted to go in. She needed to come up with something before they were back home. 

Her eyes fell on the theater, and there it was, her escape! As much as she was fond of Ama Clutch, there was _one_ thing she liked better about her new Ama. 

“Dear Ama Vimp, you have taken such good care of me these past few months, I believe it to be time that I treated you. How about a nice evening in the theater?”

“I’m not properly dressed for theater.”

“I disagree, you look as dashing as ever.”

Vimp stopped in her tracks and looked at her, unconvinced. “Trying to get rid off me, are we?”

“Not at all,” Glinda breezed as she took out her purse and let her fingers glide through the paper bills.

Her father controlled her finances until her future husband would. Yet he was generous enough to give her a small allowance of what she had earned that week. An allowance that was increasingly disappearing in the pockets of her new Ama. 

“I’d say this would cover you for tonight.” 

She held out the money - enough to pay for three tickets easily - just out of reach of the old woman’s greedy hands. “Not a _word_ to my parents.”

“Can’t tell anything when I don’t even know what you plan on doing.”

“I need to do some stuff at work,” Glinda answered vaguely. “I’ll meet you by the theater afterwards.”

There. That had bought her a few hours of freedom. 

“As an Ama with something left resembling a conscience, I must advice you against this.”

“I’ll be fine, I know my way around the city.”

“I’m afraid you know it a little too well,” her Ama sighed as she stashed away the cash. “At least tell me he’s handsome.” 

Glinda was dumbstruck. “What?”

“Your beau,” she clarified impatiently. “The one you’ve been sneaking off to late at night. Or did you forget we had a similar conversation not that long ago when I caught you climbing back through the window just before dawn?”

The nerve! “You believe I would engage in such scandalizing activities?”

Ama Vimp actually _chortled_ at that. “Honey, I know the signs. Not an hour ago you were throwing a hissyfit that you didn’t want to get married. Great Oz, you really believe I’m that thick, do you?” She said as Glinda’s expression had only grown more confused. 

“You’re not the first girl who has bribed my secrecy. The things I’ve seen and heard would leave a girl like you shivering with hormones for months to come.”

She sputtered. “I don’t have a beau!”

“No of course you don’t,” Ama Vimp clacked her tongue. “You’re a proper Gillikinese girl who in about two months hastily marries an old fart because of a little accident that’s growing into a big problem inside your womb.”

Glinda couldn’t believe the nonsense her Ama was spouting. She was tempted to pinch herself to double check if she wasn’t dreaming.

“At any rate, thanks for the evening out. I’ll see you later tonight.”

She turned around and left. Glinda had to take a moment to comprehend the conversation that had just transpired. Part of her wanted to catch up with her Ama, and join her visit to the theater. _Just_ to prove a point. Then again, she had already paid, and Ama Vimp did not seem like the kind of person who would return that kind of money. 

Better to forget the conversation altogether and pretend it never happened. Glinda headed towards the Palace of Justice, so it at least _looked_ like she intended on going there. The golden gates in front of the building were off-putting and uninviting. Now she had her freedom, she didn’t know where to go. She could go to a pub, but it would be too loud with too many unfamiliar faces. It wasn’t the kind of company she craved right now. She could walk around some more, but even that seemed silly. 

A smile appeared when she had found her destination: Notre Dame. 

Nobody was in the bell tower, so Glinda went up some more stairs. To her surprise the door was already open, the rooftop bathing in the last rays of sunlight for the day. Elphaba hadn’t noticed she had company, too absorbed in her readings. Glinda lingered in the doorframe and quietly observed the scene. Elphaba sat hunched over with a book spread across her lap. Her hand writing rapidly on the page. Her feet dangling off the low ledge, and a focused frown on her face. The evening sun casted a beautiful light on her green skin. 

There was something about seeing Elphaba off in her own world. It was calm and almost endearing. She was certain Elphaba would scowl if Glinda would ever say that out loud. Just as she was sure she would be embarrassed if Elphaba would look up and discover she had been staring. Still. For a moment, Glinda could marvel at the sight in an undisturbed silence.

“Hello stranger.”

Elphaba tore herself from her book and smiled when she saw her. 

“You visit Notre Dame so often people might think you’ve converted.”

“So you _do_ care what other people think?”

Elphaba stammered before she had found the right words. “Only if those opinions portray you badly.”

Glinda smiled delightedly. It was a rare kind of smile for her; genuine and effortless. She scooted over next to her. “Don’t worry Elphie, you know I’m only here for the view.”

Her eyes fell on the notes Elphaba was reading. _Her_ notes. In the sidelines Elphaba’s handwriting was scribbled over the paper, rehashing every detail. Her smile fell and a sinking feeling in her stomach appeared. Had she been reading anything besides Dr. Dillamond’s research these days? It was hard to admit, but Elphaba had clearly become obsessed.

“Found anything useful in those notes?” she attempted to conceal her concern.

“Not yet. There’s a lot missing. I have to tie it together myself,” Elphaba admitted. “I’m afraid the subject is far beyond my capacity.”

“Maybe you should give it a rest then,” she tried, knowing it would fall on deaf ears.

“But if I could prove his theories. If I could prove Animals are equal to humans…” Elphaba let her sentence trail off. “It’s what Dr. Dillamond would’ve wanted.”

“It’s what got him killed, too,” Glinda said quietly. 

Elphaba wasn’t going to give up. She knew that. Something was brewing inside that intelligent head of hers. Whatever it was, Glinda was afraid it would be getting between them. And if she was being truly honest with herself, it had already begun.

“Glinda, I-”

She hushed her. “Not now.”

The palm of her hand started to grow cold on the stone she was leaning on. She moved her hand slightly to get her blood running to her fingers again, but felt the warmth of Elphaba’s hand next to hers instead. Her cheeks heated by the sudden contact. She had her eyes locked on the sky, but all her thoughts were with their barely touching hands. To Glinda, it didn’t feel like enough. She needed to make sure it lasted. Carefully, she laced their pinkies together.

Glinda felt Elphaba’s eyes on her, but she didn’t dare to look. Under that intense gaze she was sure she would blush even more profusely. There were no remarks from Elphaba though, no questions asked. And after a while, she too, turned her eyes to the sky. 

The sun starting to dip under the edge of the city. A warm glow of reds and purples and golden skies. Glinda wished she could capture it and hold it close to her, even though she knew it wasn’t meant to be captured. It was an ever moving painting that had already changed before she could chase it.

It wouldn’t last much longer, but dear Oz, did she want it to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading the chapter! If you want to talk about this AU you can leave a comment or shoot an ask on my [Tumblr](http://wickedlyqueer.tumblr.com)!


	7. Ivory Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Klokkenluider” (Dutch; noun) 1. Bell ringer. 2. Someone who reveals wrongdoing (within an organization) to the public; also known in English as “whistle-blower”._

Elphaba couldn’t remember the last time she got any sleep. Her wrist was in a constant state of pain and her fingers were cramped from the hours of writing. Fifteen hundred. That’s how many pamphlets she had written the past couple of days. Since a printing house was too expensive she had taken on the job of copying the message all by herself. 

Multiple threads were spun across the room, covered in papers pegged up to dry. Paper lay everywhere. On the floor, her desk, her chair, even the wooden stairs. Almost every inch of the Bell Tower was covered with it. 

So far she had evaded Glinda’s questions, even though she worriedly pointed out the bags that had collected under Elphaba’s eyes. Frexspar would’ve been a bit more difficult to elude, but he hadn’t bothered to pay her a visit. 

With her trembling hand she wrote the final bullet point one last time. Elphaba put the quill in the ink and cracked her neck to release the tension. Her head fell back in the chair and she let out a relieved sighed. 

The first part was done. 

She couldn’t wait to see Glinda’s face. It was after all thanks to her that she had gained the information she needed. 

The rest of the day involved stacking the dried pamphlets and ringing the bells for the evening mass. In between - before, after, during - these duties, Elphaba kept glancing at the door. She never knew when Glinda would pop in and pay her a visit, they never really planned these things. Although going off previous encounters she tended to visit in the afternoons, whenever her work allowed it. But had she not visited her after evening mass not even a week ago? She could turn up any moment.

It was past midnight when Elphaba had to admit to herself it was pointless to wait any longer. Her eyes were drooping. As soon as her head hit the pillow she fell asleep, her last thought a simple hope that tomorrow she could finally show all her hard work to Glinda.

\--

The rain was pouring down that day and Elphaba had all but given up her hopes of Glinda visiting today, when just after midday, she showed up. Her cloak and gloves were soaked, but underneath all that was the ever properly dressed and beautiful Gillikinese girl. 

“Hello Elphie, you look well-rested,” she noted with a hint of relief in her voice, and put her belongings on a rack near the door.

“I am, actually. I have something I want to show you.” 

Curious, Glinda stepped closer and Elphaba proudly presented one of the pamphlets. Glinda read it, then read it again, more carefully. 

“These are Dillamond’s notes,” she slowly realized.

“Well, a simplified and summarized version so it’s better to understand.” 

“That’s what you’ve been-” Glinda shook her head lightly. “That’s why you needed so much paper. Why you didn’t tell me. You…” Her voice became strangely high pitched. “You’re going to publish these, aren’t you?”

Elphaba registered her consternation and grew confused. ”This is what you wanted. Right? This is how we honour Dr. Dillamond’s work. How we honour his memory.”

Glinda pinched the brim of her nose. “Oh Elphie, you silly naive thing. You’ve been locked up in this tower for too long.”

_“Excuse me?”_

Glinda met her eyes. “Don’t you get it? Oz doesn’t care.”

“They don’t care because they’re unaware of the issue. This theory proves that Animals are equal to humans. As soon as people know that they can undo these wrongs!”

“Oh please, Elphaba, you’re not _that_ naive!” 

“No, of course not! But what else can I do? Knock on the Wizard’s door so he can dismiss me immediately?” 

“You can _try_!”

“That’s suicide and you know it,” Elphaba breathed out angrily. “The only chance we have is get enough people outraged so the Wizard _has_ to listen to us.”

“This right here,” Glinda waved the pamphlet in front of her face. “Is not a _plan_ , Elphaba. It’s a whimsical gamble that will only harm you.”

Glinda flung the pamphlet on the ground and brushed a hand through her hair to take a moment to collect herself. “I know you want to help, but can’t you see? The people who’ve stayed silent benefit from the Animal Banns and those affected by it are too scared to rally behind a person they don’t even know they can trust.”

“So that’s it then? I just have to accept it? Fuck the Quadlings in the settlement camps. Fuck the Animals. Fuck those who the Wizard obliterates next. Let’s just pretend nothing happens as long as it doesn’t happen to us.”

Glinda’s face turned red in anger. “You’re twisting my words! There are other ways to-”

“Name _one_!”

Elphaba was shaking with anger, her eyes burning on Glinda. Something flicked inside her as she saw how Glinda struggled to come up with an answer.

“Where do your loyalties lie?” The question was accusatory, and tinted with confusion.

“With the people!”

“Then show it,” Elphaba demanded. “ _Prove_ it!”

“Elphie, it’s not that simple-”

“No. Of course not.” She eyed her suspiciously. “Wouldn’t want to give up your precious position as Captain, would you?”

“The situation is more complicated-”

“Tell me,” Elphaba talked right over her. “Do you only care about Animals in theory? In metaphors? Or does it take another Goat’s death for you to see what’s really happening?”

“Don’t you _dare_ use Dr. Dillamond’s death against me!”

Her roaring words echoed through the bells. The sound died out slowly, and it gave Elphaba enough time to get the courage to say the next words. “I think you should leave, Miss Glinda.”

She swallowed. The formality stinging between them. 

“Elphie, no! You don’t understand!” Glinda pleaded.

“Oh, but I do. I do understand,” Elphaba felt her voice waver. “You accuse me of being removed from society yet you do not see the ivory tower you’ve built for yourself. You’re not among the people, you never were. Your privilege and selfishness prevents you from it.” 

The unpolished words came faster out of her mouth then she wanted. “Then again, it might have been my mistake to ever believe you to be anything more than you pretend to be.”

The hurt in Glinda’s eyes made her immediately want to take everything back, but the damage was done. Elphaba had gone too far, accused her of too much. She could no longer be forgiven.

“Very well,” Glinda scraped her throat. “If that’s what you think of me, then I guess I’ve misplaced some of my judgement as well. For it appears that people should be appalled by your behaviour, or _lack_ thereof, more so than your exterior.”

Elphaba opened her mouth. Then closed it again. She averted her eyes. Her words came out as a mumble. “I’ve always lacked a soul.”

“Oh, for the _love_ of Oz!” Glinda almost shrieked. “Don’t come to me with such a cop-out answer, Elphaba! You can’t insult me and then not take responsibility by claiming something as _absurd_ as not having a soul.”

“It’s not a cop-out, it’s the truth!”

“ _Bullshit_!” Glinda spat out, and immediately put a hand before her mouth, scandalized by her own words.

Elphaba looked at her with wide eyes. She had never heard Glinda even come close to cursing. Years of societal behaviour down the drain, all because of her.

They stared at each other. Neither of them daring to interrupt the silence between them. As if by keeping quiet, they could deny their fight for just a little longer. Was the reason they connected the same that would tear them apart? If so, had their connection always been this fragile? 

It couldn’t be. Even now, Elphaba wanted nothing more than have Glinda understand her reasoning, though she could not understand hers. She wanted Glinda to be on her side. She had never wanted that so strongly from any other person in her life. 

“Publish the research, Elphaba,” Glinda said eventually, having mulled through her own thoughts. “If that’s what you want. Be a martyr.”

“I will.”

“I just hope you have a strategy.”

She took a moment to look Elphaba earnestly in the eye and added softly. “Try to be safe, okay? For when it all goes horribly awry.”

She shuddered and turned around to gather her stuff. At the back of the room, Elphaba heard the sound of repressed sniffling. She could not let Glinda leave like that. She didn’t _want_ her to leave at all. 

“People need to know!” Elphaba tried to capture Glinda’s attention one more time. Why couldn’t she understand? “They can lock me up for all I care. But you should know better than anyone else that this is bigger than me.”

Glinda had her hand on the door handle, but she was clearly listening. She had tilted her head ever so slightly, looking over her shoulder, her face hidden by her golden locks. 

It was now that Elphaba had to stand her ground, since she couldn’t do much else. If she was even going to bust an inch, she knew she would be too vulnerable and give into Glinda’s desires. “And who better to play the martyr than someone who is not needed?”

“You’re wrong there,” a crack in her voice. “You’re needed. And if you know me at all, you know that too.”

Without as much as another glance, she left the bell tower. Elphaba stepped forward to go after her, but immediately stopped herself. _She_ was in the right, not Glinda. If this was what necked their relationship, then it appeared to be not as strong as she thought it had been. 

Their argument flashed through her head. Glinda never outright denied the problem, but instead kept insisting that there was more to it. Yet in her anger she had not give Glinda space to argue her side. Was it true then; was there more to it? Did Elphaba really not understand? Was _she_ the ignorant one? 

No. Glinda was born with privilege. She held a luxurious position next to the side of the Wizard that she simply could not give up. That she was aware of the issues, but did nothing to stop them was even more disgusting than being ignorant. 

Elphaba’s eyes rested on the pamphlets surrounding her. She had put so much effort into them. At this point, did she really have a choice?

It was decided. Tonight she would go around the Emerald City so that tomorrow morning its people would wake up to Dr. Dillamond’s research stuck under their doors.


	8. The Truth Revealed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning(s):** mentions of death

Glinda stormed down the swirl of stairs, her head throbbing and her vision a blur. Thoughts spiraled into an incohesive mess; loose threads of unfinished plans. It was no use. There was only one place to go and she needed to go there _now_. With a swift motion she put on her cloak and pulled the hood over her head, obscuring her face. 

She slipped outside Notre Dame and took a sharp right to the western side of the city. The pouring rain was a much needed cloak of concealment. She kept her head down as she dived into the maze of narrow streets. Always taking turns. Never looking back. The slums weren’t exactly a pretty sight, but in this weather, with the dark clouds and muddy puddles and deep holes in the neglected streets, they were ghastly.

Sometimes it was hard to believe that this _too_ was Emerald City. Cold and bare and poor. A complete opposite of the beautiful upper districts. She knew this. Elphaba knew she knew. 

Oz! How could she ever been this stupid?

All she had to do was play a part, and she had failed it miserably. And for what? A friendship that was now in shambles because there were certain things that could not be told. She was playing with fire when she gave Elphaba the research, but it had felt so exhilarating at the time. It was much more than sharing a part that wasn’t meant to be shared. For the first time, someone had shown interest in the girl underneath the golden curls of the upperclass. 

She waited in the alleyway for the area to be completely clear. A flurry of black cloak was all that was seen entering the sketchy bar across the street. Glinda immediately scanned the room. Two men sitting in the back, playing cards and paying nobody else any attention. Another man in a stool, completely drunk. One bartender, mindlessly cleaning glasses. 

Glinda got to the bar and bowed over. The bartender walked up to her.

“How can I help you?”

“Could I get a peach and kidneys, please?” she said in a low murmur.

The bartender put down the glass and nodded. “Follow me, please.”

She went after the woman behind the back of the bar. They crossed the kitchen, went through another door and walked down a maze of empty rooms and hallways. After some more stairs they entered a low-lit hallway and the bartender halted.

Glinda, having skipped ahead of protocol, had already searched for the key she always carried and handed it over to the woman before she even asked. 

The woman acknowledged the gesture with a smile and opened the door. “He has been notified and will join you shortly.” 

“Thank you.”

“Lock the door when you’re inside,” the bartender gave the key back. “Safety measures.” 

She made an understanding hum. Not that she needed the reminder. 

The room was empty, besides a table some chairs and a few lights. She locked the door and waited until the bartender’s footsteps died out. Finally alone, everything hit her all at once. 

Her hands burned as they began to glow. Everything was ruined. All she had worked on for three years. She had betrayed Dr. Dillamond’s dying wish. She hadn’t told Elphaba the entire truth of how she’d found Dr. Dillamond, still alive in a pool of his own blood...

“ _Dr. Dillamond_!” Galinda wanted to step over the pool of blood and help him get up but he objected before she could.

“No! Don’t come closer!” his voice sounded restrained. “They mustn’t.. Know you were here.”

“But I must get a medic! You will die, sir!”

“They already think I’m dead.” His breathing got heavier. “G’linda… they are after my research.”

She didn’t follow. “Your research?”

“They couldn’t find it. But they will be back,” he looked her right in the eye. “In the garden. My father’s grave. It’s fake… dig for a box. It’s where it’s stored.”

“Dr. Dillamond, I’m not-”

“GO!”

Galinda hurried to the garden, tears stinging in her eyes, and retrieved the research from the small wooden box that was buried under the dirt. It was a big folder with hastily written notes about Animals and biology, a subject Galinda had never excelled at. She ran back to the house and to her relief, Dr. Dillamond was still breathing.

“Good girl. Make sure _nobody_ knows about it.”

She sat on her knees next to him. She knew what he was implying, but she couldn’t. Not _her_ of all people. She was useless. An ugly sob came out. “Dr. Dillamond you know I’m not smart enough to continue your work.”

“Then find.. someone worthy… who can.” As much as he struggled, he managed to give her a smile. “But be careful who you trust.”

She nodded quickly.

“Go G’linda. Quickly now. The Gale Force will come back. With more people.”

Her stomach turned. The _Gale Force_?

“Did my father..?”

“No,” he said surprisingly firm. “I doubt he knows.”

Her breathing went uneven and the room started to spin. A strange energy started to surround her.

“I don’t want to become Captain,” she said, tears running down her cheeks. “I don’t want to. I don’t. I _can’t_!”

“You must.”

“NO! I _refuse_!”

Raw magic shot out of her, flinging papers and scattered objects into the air. Then everything went still. The papers and objects hung around her, motionless.

The moment seemed to stretch for an entirety, before the papers crashed down heavily, making the earth around them shake. Galinda didn’t notice, because through the blurry vision between her tears, she saw the spark in Dr. Dillamond’s eyes slowly die out…

The _pang_ of a glass snapping into pieces spun Glinda back to reality. She quickly wiped off the tears that were dripping from her cheeks.

“Elphie…” she breathed out. “ _Why_?” 

There was no time to reflect, because she heard thumping beneath the floorboards. Glinda quickly sat down on a chair and composed herself. With a hard knock a piece of the floor swung open. Under short curly black hair two curious eyes scanned the room.

“Ah! Good afternoon to you, Miss Glinda,” he said politely as he pulled himself up from the secret passageway.

“Master Fiyero, thank you for meeting me on such short notice.”

“Not at all,” he said with a courtesy smile as he closed the floorboards and took a chair opposite of her. “I’m assuming the urgency means it’s important. Tell me, do you have more intel?”

“I’m afraid I have no good news, Master Fiyero.” Glinda fidgeted with her hands. “In fact, I have some rather bad news.”

Fiyero gestured that she should elaborate. She sucked in a breath. “I jeopardized our mission.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The work of Doctor Dillamond? I gave it to an external party who now wants to go public with it.”

Her heart was pounding in her chest. Fiyero sat back in his chair and mulled over this information.

“You gave it to an external party. Any reason as to why?”

“I…”

“Do you no longer trust Master Boq on the subject?”

“That’s not it.”

He looked even more puzzled. “Who’s the third party?”

She swallowed. “Elphaba of Notre Dame.”

“The bell ringer?”

“Yes.”

“Hm,” his face cleared up. “That might prove to be useful.”

Now it was Glinda who frowned. “Useful?”

“Yes. I recently talked to Master Boq and he admitted experiencing some difficulty with the research. Apparently the theoretics check out as far as he can understand Dillamond’s work, but we have no empirical evidence. Without it, we will never convince the Wizard.”

“ _But_ ,” he emphasized. “If the research goes public, we might not need the Wizard’s approval at all. Even if nothing comes of it, at the very least it’s an opportunity to measure the public’s opinion on Animals.”

Glinda gritted her teeth. “At the cost of Elphaba’s safety.”

“I’d say she knows what she’s doing. The one time I met her she was very assertive.”

“Oh, so just because she’s assertive she’ll be fine? We cannot permit this. Elphaba will be in danger!”

“Your own position as Captain is what I'd be concerned about.”

“Why would I-” she stopped when Fiyero raised an eyebrow. “Then we must grant her sanctuary. Let her be part of the Court.”

“That can be arranged.”

Her posture relaxed somewhat. “Good.”

“When is the earliest time you can bring her here?”

“What? Oh -” She looked down. “I can’t bring her in. We… left somewhat on a bad note. I doubt she would see me. Can’t anyone else bring her in?”

“You know the rules, Miss Glinda. This needs to be done in person, by someone she _knows_ and who meets with her regularly as to make nobody suspicious. How often does she go outside Notre Dame?”

“Never, to my knowledge.”

“Right…” Fiyero sighed. “Well, then I’m afraid my hands are tied.”

“There must be another way.” Glinda realized she sounded desperate. “ _Anything_!”

“I wish I could, but I can’t risk the safety of hundreds of people for your friend. If you have any other solution, please inform me as soon as possible. But for now…” Fiyero was ready to wrap up the meeting.

It was hopeless. She was furious at herself: once again, she was not capable enough. Back when she was a child (and embarrassingly enough even when she was in her teens) she could throw a big hissy-fit if things didn’t go her way. As much as Glinda liked to believe she had grown out of that behaviour, every once a while her pettiness bubbled up again. “It’s not as if I wanted to find his research!” 

“Do you believe I wanted to lead a resistance, Miss Glinda?” Fiyero said sternly. “When I was young my mother showed me the Court of Miracles: a centuries old underground safe haven for my tribe within these walls. Every _day_ my arrogance wishes I had kept this place a secret from every non-Arjiki.”

“Yet you overcame your arrogance.”

“I do not let it rule me, no. Do you know why?”

Realizing that she would look incredibly rude if she’d reply, Glinda shook her head.

“I saw how Quadlings and Animals were treated not very differently from my people. I decided that my empathy had to triumph if I did not want blood on my conscious. After all, our underground city had space left to harbour those in dire straits. What kind of monster would I be if I turned them away?”

He looked at her fiercely. “ _None_ of us chose this, Miss Glinda. My people were forced into this position. You weren’t. Be grateful you can turn away from all this at any given moment and still be able to live a life.” 

\--

Fiyero’s words had cut in her. He was right, of course. She wanted the self-awareness without the responsibility. How utterly selfish. 

Glinda had felt bound by Dr. Dillamond’s words. She _must_ become Captain, she _must_ find a way to continue his research. But unlike all the people who found refuge in the Court of Miracles, she could drop all this whenever she wanted. She could hide behind her social class. Not that she wanted to. But she _could_. Fiyero couldn’t. Nobody in the Court had that same luxury.

Was that it? Was she just some saint savior who would never understand the real repercussions? Glinda sighed and looked at herself in the mirror. The thick layer of make-up wasn’t able to completely cover the bags under her eyes. She didn’t know how she could go on like this, but she also didn’t know what else to do. She practised her smile that dazzled even the most stern men. If she didn’t look too closely, she almost believed the happy image she had created.

\--

“Rough night?” one of the Gale members asked with a concerned frown when Glinda entered the Palace of Justice. 

Lurline, was it that obvious?

“Don’t be fooled by my position as Captain, sergeant,” she said in her most authoritative voice. “I may inhabit a role that was predominantly occupied by men, but underneath all that I am still a lady. You ought to rethink such improper inquiries in my company.”

The sergeant flushed red and stumbled into an apology for his inappropriate behaviour. It was kind of endearing that the boy thought she was actually offended. He was young too, probably a year younger than her. She could tell he hadn’t lost his innocent streak yet. 

“A-Anyway Captain, Madame Morrible has asked to visit her office as soon as you’d come in today.”

“Then I must lend her a visit, mustn’t I? Thank you, sergeant.” 

The boy got even more flustered when she rewarded him with a smile. His face now resembled the colour of a tomato. Wrapped around her little finger. God, men were entirely too predictable. 

Not that she should get intoxicated with power; not everyone was that easily charmed. She took a moment to prepare herself before she knocked on the wooden door. “Captain Glinda to see Madame Morrible as requested?”

Too nervous, she chastised herself. 

“Ah yes, Glinda dear. Come in.” 

She walked into the gilded office. Every piece of furniture, from the padded chairs to the extravagant curtains to the fancy quill on Morrible’s desk seemed handpick to intimidate Glinda specifically. Almost as if to mock her sense of authority she had felt mere moments ago.

“Take a chair, I just came back from a fruitful conversation with the Wizard.” 

Glinda did as was requested, and felt the growing weight on her shoulders. It was hard to notice through that cold-blooded stoicism, but Morrible almost looked excited.

“I’m sure you’ve already heard the big news of today?” Without waiting for an answer, Morrible reached for a piece of paper and handed it over. Everything inside Glinda crumbled as she realized what it was.

“These pamphlets were found this morning in many households in the Emerald City.”

Glinda stared at the pamphlet. Afraid that if she would look up, her face would give away all the answers. 

“Apparently it’s research of Doctor Dillamond. Of course, we’re not able to authenticate it, for the Goat is long dead.” Morrible paused. “Didn’t he teach you, dear?”

Glinda felt sick. 

“Once upon a time,” she settled on a relatively steady voice. “Frankly, I barely remember him. I’ve had many tutors.”

She laid the pamphlet back on the desk and was bold enough to hold Morrible’s gaze. 

“I see,” she slowly said. “But surely, he was different than your other tutors.”

“Of course, he was an Animal. Completely improper, if you ask me,” Glinda lied through her teeth. A bit too easily, she noted. “Perhaps that’s the reason I barely remember him.”

Morrible settled back in her chair. “Perhaps.”

Whatever Morrible was after, Glinda had lied well enough to throw her off her scent. For now, at least. Instead, she commanded Glinda to get her some documents from the archive. She more than happily obliged; anything to get out of this interrogation. 

Still, she couldn’t just leave the office like that. She had to check if Elphaba was in any danger. With one hand already on the doorknob she gulped. 

“Do we have any leads on who is responsible for the pamphlets?” and quickly added a “Madame?” to sound more polite. 

There was a brief stretch of silence. Glinda briefly wondered if Morrible had heard her.

“We have our suspicion,” she said, her voice calculated. “Officers are currently investigating the case.”

Glinda felt the sweat collecting in her palms, her eyes steady on the doorknob. “I’d like to stay up to date.” 

“I hadn’t expected any different, darling.”


	9. Traps of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning(s)** : (internalized) homophobia, mentions / discussion of death

Glinda had come home after another stressful day at work. The search for who had spread the pamphlets around Emerald City was growing bigger by the day. So far Glinda had managed to keep the Gale Force away from looking into Elphaba, though she did not know how that would continue to work.

Ever since Dr. Dillamond’s death she had a secret life. It had taken her some time to find a worthy successor of his work, but once she came in contact with a young man named Boq, she immediately got inaugurated into the resistance. As a Captain-to-be she was in a marvelous position to pass on valuable intel that the resistance desperately needed. So in a way, she was used to walking the fine line of a double life, but this time it felt different. 

The resistance was more a concept to her, if she got caught, the resistance wouldn’t have to dismantle because of it. It would live on in other ways, with other people. Elphaba on the other hand had acted alone. Even if Elphaba never wanted to see her again, Glinda could not bear the thought of losing her.

There was a knock on her door and the voice of her father calling her.

“Are you busy, dear?”

“No, that’s alright papa, you can come in.” 

Highmuster entered the room and planted a quick peck on top of her curls. He rested his hands gently on her shoulders. “Ah, finishing up work for today?”

“Yes, it’s a report. Madame Morrible wants to keep a day-to-day record of our progress .”

“You must be excited,” he said as he proceeded to sit down in the chair closest to her. “It’s your first big mission as Captain, isn’t it?”

Glinda knew how to keep up her facade by now. “Yes, it’s an incredible opportunity for me. I really hope I can show my skills as Captain.”

“And you will, my darling. Once you capture that bastard, they’ll never let you go.”

Glinda wasn’t so sure about that. She put her pencil back in the ink and folded her hands in her lap.

“Papa, can I ask you a question?”

He smiled at her kindly. “Anything, dear.”

“These pamphlets… they’ve got me thinking about Dr. Dillamond again. About his death.”

He frowned. “I see…”

“Do you think he was murdered?”

Glinda studied his face closely, for any sign, any response, any slight gesture that could indicate he had known the Gale Force brutally murdered Dillamond.

She came up empty: Highmuster looked completely thrown off-guard. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, I was wondering if he may have had any enemies. Anyone who could’ve benefited from his death.” 

“Those are gruesome thoughts.”

“You usually call those ‘excellent analytical skills’, papa.”

He chuckled at that. “I guess you’re right. And perhaps he was murdered, darling. It was a long time ago, and I don’t have the answers you’re looking for I’m afraid.”

Glinda hummed. 

So Dr. Dillamond hadn’t lied all those years ago to protect her; her dad was in fact not involved with the raid. Part of her was obviously relieved that her father didn’t kill an innocent Goat to further the Wizard’s propaganda. But it did raise the question who _had_ given the command at the time if not the actual Captain of the Gale Force. Was there a secret part within the Gale Force that answered to another man than the Captain? She made a mental note to be even more on her guard than she already was. 

“So princess, your mother and I have been talking.”

The combination of ‘mother and I’ and ‘princess’ - an old nickname he used to make her feel special whenever little Galinda had felt upset - immediately put her on edge.

“I will not lie to you, the past few weeks, we’ve been getting worried about you.”

“How so? I’ve been feeling better than ever.” 

Really? Even to her own father?

“No doubt, honey, but the political climate is changing, and your mother and I are concerned for your safety.”

Glinda did not like where this was going. “I’m in good hands. You trained me yourself, father. I know how to protect myself.”

“I know that, I do,” he said as he took her hand. “But wouldn’t you rather settle down? Live a peaceful life?”

She waved off his hand. “I barely started. I’m not going to stop now.”

“Glinda dear, I know this is hard to hear, but life catches up with you faster than you think. Now you should enjoy the time you have being as young as you are.”

“You want me to _retire_ ,” she retorted. 

“No sweetie, that’s up to you, it always has,” Highmuster said. “Now, the other day your mother met the most charming gentleman at Florin-”

“Oh, so this is not _just_ about me quitting my job, you want to get rid of me too by shoving me towards the first man you encounter.”

“Glinda!” Highmuster bursted out. “You know we would never do such a thing!”

“Father, we’ve had this conversation! I’m not getting married, I like my job!”

“We are talking a _simple_ dinner with a gentleman your mother has invited.”

“Unbelievable!” Glinda scoffed. “You already _invited_ him? Do I even get to know his name before I meet him at the altar?”

“His name is Sir Chuffrey and don’t use that tone with me young lady!”

Glinda crossed her arms and sat back in her chair in a disobeying manner. “I’m not doing it. This might be hard for you to understand as a _man_ , papa, but I _like_ my independence.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” her father dismissed her and stood up. “A woman can’t stay on her own forever. Don’t give me that look - no man can stay alone either for that matter. You need someone who looks after you, Glinda. Who takes care of you. Who will stand by your side no matter what.”

“Sure, I get that” - she had been taught nothing else her entire life - “But at the very least I’d like to have a _choice_ in the one I marry.”

“Of course, darling,” Highmuster reassured her. “It’s just - you’ve been so busy with work you don’t seem to have time for anything else. And your mother and I, well, we’d just like to help you along the way.”

Glinda was annoyed, to put it mildly. She didn’t need her parents meddling in her affairs. It was ludicrous that her parents believed they could just saddle her up with any man they met at the Club. She didn’t want to marry a man her _parents_ had chosen for her. She wanted to say as much, but she shocked them both when all that came out was: “I could never love a man…”

She blinked. A moment of clarity. As if a misty cloud had absolved from parts in her brain she had never dared to acknowledge let alone explore. _Oh_.

Highmuster plucked at the edge of his moustache, a nervous habit he had never been able to shake off. His eyes were fixated on her, and she detected a slight twitch in his facial expression. “Marriage is not about love, it’s about trust.”

“So it’s acceptable to have marriage forced upon you?”

“In our class it’s only a matter of politics, Glinda. You should know that by now.”

 _Is that what you said to mom in your wedding vows_? Glinda bit her tongue to not let the comment slip. That was a boundary she preferred not to cross.

“Now you _will_ meet Sir Chuffrey and you will give him a chance,” Highmuster said as a finality on the matter. “Any... _unusual_ preoccupations can be set aside. They must be set aside.”

“Unusual preoccupations! Is that how we’ll refer to it now?” she began provocatively. “Is it really that difficult to acknowledge that I prefer the company of women?”

The sentence made her breathless. She remembered why she talked in patterns and hid behind smiles. There was too much risk saying what she actually thought. Especially _these_ thoughts. The taboo subject was reflected on Highmuster’s face; pulsing red by her scandalous behaviour. 

When he spoke his voice was dangerously low. “Be careful, Glinda. You may think yourself invincible, but nothing in life comes guaranteed. You best look out before you walk into your own trap.”

He left her with those words to mull over. Tears fell down on the parchment, blurring the words of the daily report into a confusing mess. At least in the privacy of her own room she could drop all pretense of knowing what was happening anymore.

Never had she seen her father so disappointed, and never had she needed her father’s approval so badly before. She knew it was foolish, knew that some paths were forbidden. Her job as Captain was only a delay of the inevitable. Marriage was always going to be part of the plan, but it had only ever been a vague concept for the future. Now it had become present.

Her imaginations of being with a woman, _any_ woman, was just going to be that. Fleeting images made up in her head. How was it then, when she had finally spoken the words out loud, everything felt a little too real?

\--

Elphaba had expected a bit more uproar since she spread Dr. Dillamond’s research across Emerald City. She knew authorities were looking for her, but she had been smart enough to keep the pamphlets anonymous.

Her mind kept wandering off to Glinda, which she tried to ignore. Had she been using her power as Captain to keep people from looking into her? Elphaba couldn’t imagine why, since Glinda had been so upset about her plan. She also completely ignored the hopeful feeling every time she misheard a creek for footsteps.

Late in the afternoon, when Elphaba laid slumped back into her comfortable chair with a book in her lap, she heard someone walking up the stairs. There was no need to be excited about it, since they were unmistakably the footsteps of Frexspar. 

He greeted her gravely and ushered her to sit up straight so he could sit next to her. A gesture that weirded her out. 

“Is something the matter, Father?”

“I thought you and I could have a little chat.” 

Elphaba grew confused, not remembering the last time he ever sat down to chat. “About what?”

“Well,” he started slowly. “It appears you’ve been far more social lately.”

She snorted. Knowing the conversation could only somehow grow into some ridiculous unionist rant, she turned her attention back to her book. “Yes, the gargoyles have been excellent company, thanks for asking.”

“I meant Miss Glinda.”

Elphaba froze. She tried her best to pretend she continued reading. “What about her?”

“I’ve noticed she spends a lot of her afternoons here.” 

“What can I say?” she casually flipped a page. “The view charmed her.”

“ _Only_ the view?” Frex asked carefully. “Or..?”

Okay, this was getting into none-of-your-business territory. She closed the book and sighed exasperatedly. “If you must know, Father, we struck up an acquaintanceship. Aren’t you happy? You no longer have to feel guilty that you never visit.”

She stared at him daringly. He lowered his gaze to his lap. “Yes…”

Elphaba raised an eyebrow. Frex should’ve exploded at that jab, telling her how much he had done for her. What in Oz was going on?

“... But I have noticed something different too.”

No. No way he had noticed.

“Fabala,” he rested his hand on her shoulder, but they both cringed at the unfamiliarity of the touch. He quickly put his hand back into his lap. “When I studied unionism I… had a roommate. His name was Turtle Heart.”

He struggled with his words. He was no longer the strict archdeacon of Notre Dame, or a devoted unionist, or even a contradictory caretaker. He was a young student back in university starting to realize how big the universe was. Elphaba had never seen him quite so vulnerable.

“Turtle Heart was... a charming man. Too charming for his own good. He bewitched my mind and stole my heart. I was left defenseless.” 

Her stomach twisted into knots, realizing what he was trying to get across. In one breath talking about himself, but implying what he knew about _her_. He had come uncomfortably close to seeing something she thought she had concealed well. 

“All I’m saying is,” he awkwardly patted Elphaba’s knee, “I know what you’re going through. Just know it's not too late to turn away from that life. Sometimes the sin seems tempting, but the Unnamed God has mercy on those who seek forgiveness for their sins.”

The air felt suffocating. Elphaba stood up in a rush, her head spinning. She turned her back to him and fixated on the view outside the rose window. Frexspar had never opened up about any of this. It explained why he was so bound to his faith, but it did not explain why he wanted the same for her.

She hugged her elbows. “You believe there’s salvation… for _me_?”

“Yes,” Frex said quietly. “If you really want to, there always is. Your way is long, but the Unnamed God has not given up on you yet.”

“Am I not a demon?” her voice was hoarse. “Is my green skin not a reflection of my sinful nature?”

“Who ever said that?”

Elphaba turned around, her eyes piercing through him. “You did. Don’t deny it, you know you did.”

He nodded and stood up calmly. He took her hands in his. “The Unnamed God has given you a tough challenge, Fabala. You may be the only child born with sin, but I have always believed that you too could be cleansed from all that has been tormenting you.”

Frexspar had never been more genuine, more hopeful that Elphaba could become someone he could be proud of. It was an unfamiliar kind of love she wished she didn’t crave. A form of acceptance she had wanted all along. 

She withdrew her hands, not knowing what to do with this sudden form of affection. Was it true? Was her dismissal of Frex’s parental skills just a poor character judgement? After all, had he not taken her in? Had he not cared for her? Was that not parental?

“Why now?” Elphaba asked, and was surprised how firm her voice sounded. “Why do you suddenly care? You’ve always casted me aside.”

“That’s not true. Fabala, you have always been stubborn, so there was not much for me _to_ do but let you be.”

Elphaba bit her lip. He wasn’t wrong.

“But now you stand at a crossroad, one that I have stood for as well,” Frexspar said. “You could use some guidance to avoid the trap that is sinful love.”

She looked at him warily.

“Let me help you, Elphaba.”

A shiver ran down her spine at the sound of her name. Her voice had grown small. “You loved Turtle Heart?”

“It was a wrong kind of love.”

A childlike question formed in her head: _Then what is a right kind of love_? For she had never understood, never known. How many types of love where there? Did Frexspar love her? Did Glinda? Did she love them in return?

Panic rose in her chest.

Was she even capable of it?

“I, uhm… I -” Elphaba felt the walls closing in on her. “I need fresh air.”

She strode past Frexspar and barged down the stairs at a tremendous speed. She could hear Frex shout something after her, but she did not want to look back. She would go wherever her feet would take her, as long as it was anywhere but that godawful bell tower. 

\--

Glinda had concealed her puffy eyes underneath many layers of make-up. Making sure nobody in the Palace of Justice had the chance to notice how truly miserable she felt. 

After the conversation with her father she had locked her bedroom door and skipped dinner. She had crawled onto her bed and wanted nothing more than sleep until dawn. Yet she had spent her night in a confusing state between consciousness and half-dreams. Her pillow a damp mess from the many tears she had shed.

Memories of past events had flashed through her head all night long. Older women she intensely admired, girls her age she wanted to spent an unreasonable amount of time with. She even recollected preparing for boytalk; deciding which boy would be most appropriate to have a crush on. As if it was something that could be decided by a pro and con list. He had good posture after all and his hair was nice. He could be funny, too. That was having a crush, right? 

The reality had finally crashed down and Glinda wasn’t ready. Why now? When she could barely hold her life together as it was. She couldn’t use this on top of everything else that was happening. But now that she had discovered it, she could not simply let it go. It was the undeniable truth. She was -

Glinda felt as if she swallowed a brick. She couldn’t say those daunting words. Not even in her head. They felt too personal.

One small bright side: today involved mostly paperwork so she could sit at her desk without people expecting much of her. The hours ticked away slowly and Glinda was both looking forward and dreading to go home. 

It didn’t feel the same anymore. They had breakfast this morning like usual, chatter like usual. Everything _appeared_ to be the same, but overnight, it had all become completely artificial. Even in the privacy of her home, she could no longer put off her mask.

One of the commanders stormed into her office. A welcoming delay of the inevitable, because this could only mean an emergency that translated into working late hours. 

“Captain!” he said out of breath. “Madame Morrible has summoned you to her office, _immediately_. We found the culprit!”

It took a moment for her brain to catch up. “The culprit, commander?”

“Behind the anti-Wizard propaganda!” the man said excitedly. “C’mon! We must go now, Captain! Or otherwise Morrible will go to Notre Dame by herself!”

\--

She didn’t even know how she was able to walk. _Elphaba_. They were going to arrest Elphaba, and she had no time whatsoever to warn her in advance. She shouldn’t have taken everything at face value. She should’ve known Morrible would pull something like this. She should’ve… _she should’ve_ …

They entered Notre Dame. One of the soldiers was instructed to inform the archdeacon, while the rest of the small arrest team went up the staircase towards the bell tower.

It took everything in Glinda’s power not to run up those stairs and help Elphaba escape. Maybe Elphaba was right, maybe she had chosen to stand with the Wizard. Too scared to show her true colours.

Morrible didn’t hesitant before pushing the door open. Not given Elphaba even a single sign of warning.

The room was empty. Glinda felt like she could breathe again.

“Where’s that bloody girl?”

If Elphaba wasn’t in the bell tower then she must be hiding at-

“The rooftop,” Glinda breathed out, and immediately wanted to suck the words back in. She prayed nobody had heard her, but Morrible was pointing daggers at her.

“We haven’t checked the rooftop, Madame,” Glinda said to try and avoid any suspicion.

“I suppose not.” Morrible waved a hand. “Guards. Check the rooftop.”

She was sick to her stomach as two Guards marched up the wooden stairs. How many afternoons had she spent at that rooftop? She loved spending her time there. She loved the view. She loved talking to Elphaba. She loved how passionate she was. She loved… Lurline above. How had it only become clear to her now?

She loved _her_. 

“Nothing on the rooftop, Madame!” a Guard shouted from above.

Morrible snarled. “She can’t have gone far. We must uncover every spot in this entire church.”

“You will do no such thing!” 

Everybody turned around to see Frex enter the bell tower, the remaining Guard sheepishly following him.

“Madame Morrible, as a judge you should be aware you have _no_ power within these walls.”

“Nobody can escape the law, Frexspar.”

“It’s not escaping the law if one abides to the Unnamed God. After all, He will _always_ have the highest hand for He has created life itself.”

“Elphaba has spreaded anti-Wizard propaganda around the Emerald City. Injecting lies into the minds of our citizens. You can’t deny she is a serious threat.”

“Even so, if Elphaba returns, she’ll be granted sanctuary.”

Glinda flinched. She side-eyed Morrible warily, who appeared to have caught onto the same detail as she had.

“Elphaba’s not here?” Morrible asked eagerly.

“No, she left yesterday and hasn’t come back. But I warn you! You will not touch her when she does.”

“Guards,” Morrible said with a grin. “We should grant deacon Frex’s wish and leave Notre Dame alone. I believe recent reports have discovered one more destination where the traitor could be hiding.”

“Now hold on just a clock tick -” Frex tried to protest, but it was too late. Morrible had already left the room and the guards immediately followed.

When everybody but Frex was out of earshot, Glinda stepped towards him and said quietly: “Thank you, deacon Frexspar. For looking after Elphaba.” 

He looked at her, appalled. “Don’t you _dare_ come near Fabala. I know what you are, _Captain_. You’ll destroy the little good that is left inside her.”

Glinda was stunned to silence.

He emphasized every word: “Get out of my church.”

He didn’t need to say it twice. She knew better than to confront a man who was threatening her. She quickly joined the guards, not knowing how much more her heart could take today.

If Morrible had indeed discovered the place where Elphaba was hiding, she wouldn’t be able to claim sanctuary. She silently prayed for Elphie’s safety to every deity she could think of whilst they marched into the slums of Emerald City.

They crossed through many small streets. The people who lived there either looking suspicious or afraid as they walked by. Glinda couldn’t blame them. The Gale Force hadn’t exactly treated them with respect.

They got deeper into the Court of Miracles, and Glinda found that the roads looked familiar. After a while, Morrible ducked inside a local bakery and Glinda didn’t need to double check to know this bakery was acquainted with the resistance.

It wasn’t a safe house though, so Glinda was pretty certain Elphaba wouldn’t be here. It did raise the question where Morrible had gathered this information, because the family who lived here was a food supplier to several refugees living in the secret city underneath the City.

“... Reason to believe Elphaba of Notre Dame is hiding here,” Morrible finished her sentence as Glinda was the last one to enter the shop.

The baker looked at her and the hint of relief was enough confirmation that they both knew of their respective role in the resistance.

“I’m so sorry, Madame Morrible,” the baker looked back at the woman towering above him. “I’m afraid I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“She’s green,” Morrible deadpanned. “Ring any bells?”

“Oh! No, I don't ring any bells. I’m a baker, you see. I believe a green girl rings the bells,” the baker said innocently.

Glinda repressed a noise of distress. The poor guy had no idea what hole he had accidentally dug himself into.

“W-which is the girl you’re looking for! I see!” the baker added nervously when Morrible was coldly staring at him. “N-no I have not seen her.”

He was speaking the truth, that much Glinda knew. But the way he was cowering under Morrible’s gaze made him look guilty.

“Tell me, baker. If you were me, would you believe a baker who is sweating like a pig after a few simple questions?”

“I, uhh…” his eyes shot to Glinda in a desperate attempt for help.

“Keep your eyes off the pretty girl, baker,” Morrible hissed. “I’m the one speaking to you.” 

“Yes M-Madame!”

“So you confirm to have seen Elphaba?”

“W-What? No! _No_! I have not seen the girl!”

“Glinda,” Morrible’s sharp voice cut through her. “Do you believe this man?”

She was testing her. 

“I believe he is innocent until proven otherwise,” she said strategically neutral. “Only if we find Elphaba on this premise we can say he is indeed guilty.”

“Very well.”

Morrible shoved the guy to the side and took a piece of wood. She put one end in the oven until a flame was flickering brightly. She directed the torch to Glinda. “We must smoke her out.”

“With all due respect Madame, I’m not going to put a bakery on _fire_ ,” Glinda protested.

She tsked. “Nobody said anything about a fire _inside_ the house, darling. If we gather enough leaves, we can cause this house to be filled with smoke. Anyone who is hiding will have to emerge if they want to live.” 

The baker, who had crawled into a corner, quietly wailed that he wasn’t hiding anybody, green or otherwise.

“Captain Glinda, did you hear your _superior_ giving you an order?”

She looked back at Morrible and begrudgingly took the torch. The moment fell heavily on her shoulders. Glinda thought back to what her father had taught her.

 _Observe_. 

A little bakery in the poorest district of the city. Barely sustaining as it was, they sold much of their bread to the refugees for a quarter of what it was actually worth. The baker, who was sitting hunched up in terror, was a kind man. She had heard he would become a father soon. His wife must be working, selling their bread inside the real Court of Miracles, even through her pregnancy.

 _Deduce_. 

If she would follow Morrible’s orders, innocent people would die. Maybe not from the smoke, but of the damage that was going to be done to this bakery. The family wouldn’t be able to amend the costs of the repairs. They could lose their barely-scraping-by livelihood. The people who were dependable on their bread would no longer have enough food to live.

And she would be responsible.

 _Refuse_. 

Glinda held the fire and put it out in the nearest bowl of water.

Morrible squinted her eyes. “You dare defy my orders?”

“A captain protects citizens,” Glinda said boldly. “I believe Elphaba is not here. I’m sure a simple house search will suffice to confirm this suspicion. There’s no need for drastic measures.”

“Oh thank you!” the baker cried gratefully from his corner. “You’re good to us, Captain Glinda!”

Morrible ignored him, creeping up closer to Glinda. “A captain,” she articulated sharply, “follows _orders_.”

Glinda stood her ground. “I’m skilled enough to make choices as an _actual_ Captain. You’re not my puppeteer.”

“I see,” Morrible grimaced. “It appears then, Miss Glinda, that you just proved your disloyalty to the Wizard.”

“If the Wizard stands for such senseless cruelty then I’ll gladly surrender my position as Captain of the Gale Force.”

The two women boldly stared at one another. There was no turning back. Glinda had made her choice clear. It may have been the stupidest choice in her entire life. That, she did not know yet. But at this point, what did she lose but the artificiality of a perfect life?

Glinda broke eye contact first and headed towards the door.

“Step outside that door, Glinda of the Arduenna Clan, and you’ll be branded a traitor for life,” Morrible warned her.

Provocatively, Glinda pushed the door even wider open and stepped outside. 

The air around her shifted. She kept on walking further into the street. Something tingled at the back of her neck. She turned around in time to see one of the guards pointing a crossbow at her. 

The world slowed and fastened all at once. There was no time to run, but with enough luck, she could minimize damage. She crossed her arms protectively over her body, guarding vital organs as best as she could.

Glinda heard the sound of the string releasing the arrow. All she had to do was wait for the moment of impact. She opened one eye. Right before the arrow hit her, it bounced off to something seemingly invisible and fell flatly to the ground.

Glinda blinked in confusion. Even Morrible and the guards looked thrown off by it. There was a moment of bewildering silence. Until Morrible pointed at her accusingly. 

“WITCH!” 

“W-what?” Glinda stammered and looked closer to her surroundings. She was standing in a bubble. A protective magical shield she had conjured up out of thin air. 

“SHE’S A WITCH!” Morrible shouted again.

Despite all her defiance, Glinda’s childlike fears seeped back into her. “ _No_! I’m not a witch!” 

“Give me that!” Morrible ripped the crossbow out of the guard’s hands and started firing arrows as rapidly as she could.

Glinda couldn’t move. Every arrow that hit her bubble felt like it was flying right through her. Her whole body was trembling to force the shield up. She wouldn’t be able to keep this up forever.

People in surrounding houses had come outside to watch what was going on. Pointing and gasping at Glinda.

Tears pricked in her eyes. Nobody could see this! It was forbidden!

 _“Galinda… do you know what people do to witches? They will tear you apart. They will make your life miserable. They will burn you at the stakes, because they believe you belong in hell.”_

_Stop it_! She begged herself. _Block out these stupid memories_!

_“Nobody will show mercy. So you must hide, my little princess. Hide in plain side. Nobody will suspect a thing, if you can control your powers and behave like the good girl I know you are.”_

_STOP!_

An arrow pierced through her flesh, puncturing her lungs. She desperately gasped for air. The weight of her body becoming too much for her feet to carry. She collapsed onto the ground, numbed by the pain shivering through her veins.

The world went blank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to scream - I mean chat about this chapter you could leave a comment or come visit me on [Tumblr](http://wickedlyqueer.tumblr.com)!


	10. An Arrow Through the Heart

The pain throbbed through her body. Drowsy images of people without faces near her. A restlessness hanging heavily on her like a cloak. The faceless reached within her chest and stirred her body inside out. She could not move. Could not object with any sound. She reached out for someone, something, _anything_. She only fell deeper into the abyss. Haziness clouded her mind, until everything faded to a dim. The pressure ebbed away. Quietness settled in at last.

Glinda woke up, feeling the springs of a cheap mattress that was not hers in a room she did not know. The room was hollow and scarcely lit by a candle near the bed. The pointy wooden structure of it suggested she was in someone’s attic. Who had brought her here? Something green moved in the corner of her eye.

“Elphie?”

“Stay down,” she said, one foot already out the door. “I’ll get a doctor to check on you.”

Elphaba returned with a Rabbit who did a couple of check-ups to make sure everything was alright. He ordered her to stay in bed for the time being and would be back tomorrow, but if anything was wrong in the meantime, Glinda should let him know instantly.

With a sincere apology that he had many other patients to get back to, he nodded towards Elphaba that she could fill in all the details and left the room.

Many questions were still left unanswered. Where she was, how Elphaba had found her. But one question stuck out the most.

“Elphaba?” she asked, tears pricking in her eyes. “How am I still alive?”

“You-,” she cleared her throat and sat down next to the bed. “You were lucky. The baker was quick enough to get you to the nearest safe house. A doctor happened to be there and she immediately treated your wound.”

“But…” Glinda stammered. “I got shot. I remember. Morrible- she shot me. I would be locked up by now if I hadn’t died.”

“Maybe she expected the birds would get to you first. Witches usually don’t get much sympathy around here.”

She shuddered at the idea.

“What about you?” Glinda asked. “How come you’re here?”

“I ran away.”

Glinda looked at her for a more detailed explanation. Elphaba scratched the back of her neck. “Frex was being weird so I thought it was better to lay low for a while. Fiyero once told me I could always find a place in the Court of Miracles. Though it wasn’t easy finding the _real_ Court.”

“And now you’re here.”

“Now I’m here.”

She looked at Elphaba, not knowing what to expect. Last time they saw each other, Elphaba couldn’t have been more clear that she wanted her out of her life. Yet here she was by her side. 

“I can’t believe how stupid I am,” Elphaba muttered. “I said the most hideous things about you right to your face.”

“Hey, no Elphie,” Glinda reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. “No need to apologize. I said some awful things about you too.”

“But I put you in so much danger.” There was genuine fear in her eyes. “I- I put you in a terrible position and it’s all my fault. You gave Dr. Dillamond’s research in confidence and I took it for granted. It was never mine to share.”

“It wasn’t mine to share either, and yet I did. You shouldn’t take responsibility for my own shortcomings. I chose to share the research with you. If anything, I’m responsible. I should’ve told you about the resistance and I could’ve avoided the entire affair.”

“No, don’t be foolish,” Elphaba shook her head. “You didn’t know if I could be trusted with such information. I would’ve done the exact same if I were in your position. You-”

Her gaze grew soft. “You only wanted to protect me.”

“And you wanted to save the world,” Glinda’s heart churned, looking into Elphaba’s eyes. “How could I possibly blame you for believing in a better tomorrow?”

Elphaba looked away and smiled shyly. Glinda had never seen something quite so adorable.

“It’s after midnight so I should,” Elphaba let go of their intertwined hands and gestured towards the door. “I have an early meeting tomorrow with Fiyero about my place in the Court. I will make sure to give him an update of your health status too.”

Elphaba was ready to rush out of the door, but now Glinda had her by her side, she didn’t want her to leave.

“I’ll be back,” Elphaba promised and stood up. She was about to leave and aimed for the door.

“Please Elphie,” Glinda reached out enough to touch her fingertips. Elphaba halted instantly. “Can you stay? For me..?”

“I wouldn’t want to bother you,” her voice was awfully thick.

Glinda tugged at her hand. “You’re not,” and guided her back to the chair. The atmosphere had grown strangely intimate with only a light touch. Elphaba was trembling, but tried her best to hide it.

“How’s the wound looking?” Lying down, Glinda hadn’t been able to see it yet.

“It’s -” Elphaba reached to it, but stopped herself in time, realizing how inappropriate it looked and drew her hand back in embarrassment.

“It’s okay,” Glinda reassured her.

Elphaba nodded and Glinda could feel her shaking hand almost touching her skin. _Almost_ touching. Elphaba would never cross such borders. She fiddled with the bandage and managed to unwrap enough to get a look at the wound. 

“I mean… it looks kinda gross…”

Glinda giggled. 

“But it’s healing.”

Elphaba carefully smoothed the bandage back into place. “You’re lucky,” she said and didn’t even dare to hold Glinda’s gaze. Only quick glances, before averting her eyes back to the wound. Or anything else, really, besides her. “That arrow almost pierced your heart.”

Had it always been like this? Both of them avoiding the obvious? Standing before the bridge, but never daring to cross it?

She needed Elphaba to stop fussing. To give Glinda her undivided attention. For a moment she hovered her hand over Elphaba’s before pressing them together. Softly resting it on her chest, just above the wound. “I’m not so sure it didn’t.”

Elphaba met her eyes carefully. Her brow furrowed in slight confusion, double-checking if she didn’t imagine what Glinda had said. She looked scared too. Scared of what might happen next. Of never being able to turn back. Not that they were ever anything less than this. What exactly could they return to?

Glinda felt a strong urge to close what little space was left between them. Having Elphaba’s hand on her chest was no longer enough. She tried to lift herself up, but Elphaba intervened.

“Y-You should stay down.”

“Then you come closer to me.”

Elphaba’s entire face flushed. She averted her eyes again.

“Elphie?” Glinda asked. “What frightens you so?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, as if not entirely sure of the answer herself. “You, my sweet,” she said. “Always you. Or rather, the pull you have on me. A pull that makes no sense. That should be considered useless, and stupid, and dangerous, and…”

Glinda held her breath.

“... And what if I don’t have that same pull on you?” Glinda rested her free hand on Elphaba’s cheek, ushering her to look her in the eyes.

“Or worse,” Elphaba gulped, “that you gravitate as much to me as I do to you.”

“Oh Elphie…” Glinda whispered, tracing her thumb against Elphaba’s jaw. “Isn’t it obvious? How utterly and unquestionably devoted I am to you?”

Elphaba had come closer, or maybe Glinda had guided her to do so, she didn’t even know. Her brain wasn’t properly processing anything anymore. All she saw was Elphaba. She had never been closer, and it still didn’t feel close enough.

Elphaba looked at her lips and back to her eyes. “May I?”

She tried not the sound as desperate as she was, and failed miserably. “Please.”

Glinda pressed their lips together, and felt her breath catch. It was soft and gentle, and if it weren’t for the wound she would’ve snuggled closer to Elphaba. Instead, she traced her hand over Elphaba’s back and into her hair, and instantly became addicted to the feel of it. She wondered how she could’ve survived so long without it. 

Elphaba pulled away first, and looked at her as if she couldn’t quite believe what just happened. Glinda smiled and pressed her forehead against Elphaba’s. Having never been so close before, Glinda took it as an opportunity to study every little detail of her closely. Her gorgeous eyes. The slight emerald blush on her cheeks. Glinda could spend her lifetime looking at her and not regret a single moment.

Her smile turned even wider when her brain had finally caught up with everything Elphaba had said. “You called me _my sweet_.”

Elphaba turned to stone. “Did not.”

“Did too,” Glinda teased. “Admit it, you’re a sap.”

“I’d never admit to my biggest defect.”

Right. Defect.

“Get some rest.” Elphaba kissed her forehead.

Glinda stroke her thumb over their intertwined hands. “Stay with me?” she asked hesitantly.

“Naturally.”

\--

The rays of sunshine casted light through the small window of the attic. The warmth woke Glinda up, but she preferred slumbering a little longer, not remembering the last time she had slept so peacefully. She couldn’t quite believe what had happened last night, and liked to hang on to its bliss. If taking an arrow to the chest meant she could kiss pretty green girls, she would’ve made sure to defy the Wizard much much earlier.

Her eyes fluttered open when she heard someone shuffling in. She smiled as Elphaba closed the door as quietly as possible. She looked over to the bed.

“I woke you up.”

“It’s okay, I’ve slept long enough.” 

“Do you want some breakfast?”

“I’m not that hungry,” Glinda said. “How did the meeting go?”

Elphaba crossed the room and sat down on the other side of the bed. “Fiyero will transport us in a week or so, once your wound is more healed.” 

Glinda nodded and rolled over to her side to face Elphaba better. She felt a stab through her body as she moved. The pain must’ve been written over her face.

“Be careful! You shouldn’t-”

“It’s fine now,” Glinda said as she settled down. “It only hurts when I move.” 

“Oz, you’re stubborn.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“That’s different,” Elphaba mumbled.

Glinda smiled and watched as Elphaba nervously crossed and uncrossed her hands. How someone could be so beautiful so effortlessly. So invisibly. Glinda always thought she knew what beauty was. It was pretty dresses. It was curly hairdos and layers of make-up. It was gentlemen in extravagant suits who danced in ballrooms. Grand palaces and detailed portraits. Fountains and gardens full of roses. Bombastic. Loud. Pronounced. 

Those things were still beautiful, but this was a different kind of beauty. It was no spectacle; it wasn’t there to be admired. It was just there. It didn’t have anything to prove, so it had nothing to hide. A beauty of quiet vulnerability.

“Talk to me.”

Elphaba looked at her. “About what?”

“Anything. I like hearing your voice.”

Her cheeks turned a darker green. “I’m not a great conversationalist.”

Glinda begged the differ, but didn’t try to object. “Then ask me a question.”

Elphaba averted her eyes to her fidgeting hands. It was clear what they both wanted to talk about, but it was impossible to approach. Even Glinda took the easy road by putting the responsibility to lead the conversation with Elphaba.

Another moment went by before something in Elphaba’s demeanor shifted. Her shoulders relaxed and she even dared to look at Glinda. “How did you know?”

The question was so vague, and yet so obvious.

“I didn’t,” she said. “Not until it practically got spelled out for me.”

Elphaba made an understanding noise. 

“How did you - when did you…?”

“In general? I’ve known for a while I could fall as easily for a girl as I could for a guy. In a way, I may have always known. And with you - well I…”

She stopped and had lost all confidence she just had. Then, she tried again. “I guess there was always intrigue, but when you… I mean, I don’t know - but when. That day...”

Glinda wanted to jump in and tell her it was alright, that she didn’t need to pinpoint a moment. That hadn’t even been her question. She herself wouldn’t been able to name a specific moment when she had fallen for Elphaba; it had happened slowly and unconsciously and gradually. It was what made it so wonderful. 

But part in her - however painful to acknowledge - wondered if there was something more Elphaba was trying to communicate, but couldn’t. It might not be _just_ about love. Or maybe it was, and that’s why it was so complicated.

Her worries got confirmed when Elphaba bawled her fists to stop her body from shivering. A lump appeared in her throat and Glinda yearned to help her.

“Elphie, you’re trembling.”

She reached out to comfort her, but when she touched Elphaba she jerked away. Quickly cowering to the edge of the bed, with her back turned against her. Her shoulders tense.

Glinda shot up, ready to embrace her, but then realized it would only hurt Elphaba more. _Hurt_ her. She had hurt her. The lump in her throat grew. “Elphie?”

“I didn’t meant to,” her voice was barely audible. 

“Was it something-” she swallowed. “Please, Elphaba, talk to me.”

The silence was deafening. She wished Elphaba would turn around so she could look into her eyes. At least then she would have a better idea what they were up against. Did she have regrets? Had last night been a mistake?

“You… You overwhelm my senses,” Elphaba let out a shuddered breath. “And I’m afraid I need some time to adjust.”

A small wave of relief washed over her.

“So do I, Elphaba. It’s new to me too,” Glinda tried to ease her worries. “And that’s okay. The best part is that we can explore it together.”

Elphaba moved to pull her legs to her chest. It made her look even smaller. “You have no problem touching others.” 

It sounded accusatory, but not towards Glinda. “It does not come natural to me.”

“It doesn’t have to,” she spoke softly.

“You deserve better. You deserve someone who can love you wholly. Who can give you everything you need.”

“Who says you can’t give me that?”

“Because I - _Oh dear Oz_!” panic crossed her face when she turned her head. “Glinda you should be lying down! You nearly died for crying out loud!” 

Elphaba got closer and laid her hands on Glinda’s shoulders. With all the tenderness in the world she slowly guided Glinda back to let her head rest on the pillow. When Elphaba decided with a firm nod that it was a job well done, she put her hands back into her lap. It was this care that made Glinda realize that it was all going to work out. 

“Why- why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh Elphie, you say you don’t love wholly but look at you now. You love so deeply. So complexly.” 

“But…” she frowned. “My hands are not all over your body.”

Glinda could not help the endearing smile. “No, they aren’t.”

Elphaba’s expression grew even more confused. “But. It should, right? That’s what lovers do.”

“I’m not exactly experienced in the subject myself.”

“No, but you _understand_. The way you kissed me last night. How you moved your hands. I don’t get that. I wish I did, but I don’t. Fuck, I-” Elphaba crawled off the bed and frantically started pacing through the room. “You may be inexperienced, but you aren’t hopelessly lost. You’ll get there. You’ll get to that place eventually where everything is perfect and happy. Maybe not all the time, but you’ll make it work. I don’t-” 

She stopped in her pace and let her head sink. “I won’t. It’s too foreign to me.”

Glinda’s heart churned. 

“And it’s not that I don’t want to,” Elphaba twisted her fingers together. “It’s that I’m doing it all wrong.”

 _No, you aren’t_. Glinda wanted to say. _Why can’t you see that_? 

“We’ll take our own pace. I’ll make sure to be less affectionate and-”

“No! That’s not it. I just-” Elphaba let her hands sag down and looked at her helplessly. 

Those deep brown eyes. Normally so focused and sharp, and now they looked so lost. Scared of love, but desperate for it too. 

Glinda shifted her hand to the side of the bed where Elphaba could reach it easier. Her palm up; an open invitation.

“How about you love me in a way that makes you comfortable?”

Elphaba’s gaze wandered anxiously from Glinda’s hand to her eyes.

“It’s just us,” she reassured her. “Nobody else gets to say how we love.”

Elphaba shuffled closer and sat down with her knees on the bed. She blinked, and stared at Glinda’s hand. Hesitantly she put her hand on hers, exploring the sensation of the touch. As the contact grew more familiar, Elphaba carefully laced their fingers together. She smiled shyly.

“This feels weird.” She widened her eyes when she realized how that sounded. “Good weird, I mean. It’s good. It’s fine.” 

Glinda’s heart bursted with adoration and she could not stop herself from giving a quick peck on their intertwined hands. A lovely gesture, had she kissed the right one.

Elphaba looked amused. “Did you just kiss your own hand?”

Her face turned red, mortified. “Shut up, I’m new to this too.” 

They stole a glance, their mouths twitching. Glinda held her gaze a moment too long, and they bursted into laughter. The tension and confusion eased as their laughter and giggles only grew louder. It was a welcoming reminder that this new part of their relationship didn’t have to be that scary at all, because they already had build such a strong foundation to work off from. 

They wheezed for air and Glinda winked a tear out of her eye. Elphaba lied down next to her, not letting go of their intertwined hands. 

Glinda watched Elphaba search for the amount of intimacy she was comfortable sharing. There was still enough space left between them, but Glinda didn’t try to close any of it. Feeling already content she could share this moment with her. More than anything, she wanted Elphaba to feel safe.

With her free hand Elphaba hovered over Glinda’s skin. Starting at her hand, her fingertips barely touching anything. Like small raindrops tapping gently, she traced her way slowly up her arm. Leaving a trail of fingerprints that never truly seemed to disappear from her skin. 

Glinda closed her eyes. Cherishing every small touch that was given to her. Her thoughts left Elphaba’s lips.

“I could get used to this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : If you hadn’t guessed it yet, Elphaba is hella aromantic, but like Glinda said that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love deeply or complexly. Just a bit differently, and with more difficulty. (Also, with that in mind the title has both a double meaning _and_ is a pun).


	11. La Vie Boheme

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning(s)** : there’s some discussions this chapter about sexual stuff ( _very_ vanilla and T-rated), gender issues like gender dysphoria, and some body issues. All of these are discussed in understanding terms, but I thought it was still important to give the head’s up.

The week spent in the attic went by quickly. Glinda had learned they were accommodated in a corn exchange, a large old barn that was only used as a stockroom these days. Elphaba kept her company. While she rested, Elphaba would read aloud from one of the books she had borrowed from the Court.

Her recovery went steady and soon enough the day broke that they would be transported to the underground city. Someone would pick them up in the afternoon, but their escort got held up and only showed up in the early evening instead.

“My apologies for the delay. The Gale Force was heavily patrolling the streets and I could not risk the safety of such a high member of the Court,” the Munchkin said with a nod towards Glinda and then turned to Elphaba. “My name is Boq. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Elphaba. I’ve heard you are devoted to Dr. Dillamond’s research as well?”

“I guess I am,” Elphaba said, not really sure how to respond to such genuine curiosity.

“Splendid! I’m sure we’ll have plenty to talk about then in our future meetings. But for now it’s crucial to get yourself and Captain Glinda to the Court.”

“ _Former_ Captain,” Glinda corrected him. 

“Of course. Shall we?”

He offered Glinda his hand, but Elphaba managed to intervene. “It’s alright, Master Boq. I can support her by myself.”

Glinda barely contained her joy. Elphaba helped her get up and slipped a hand around her waist to keep her steady. It was all pretty unnecessary, but that didn’t stop Glinda from leaning into Elphaba’s shoulder some more.

They made their way downstairs and entered a hidden passageway. Boq had brought a lantern but the light did not reach far, Glinda could only see the three of them. They walked in silence for a long while.

“Mind your step here,” Boq pointed out.

Now that someone finally had spoken up Glinda felt the need to keep up some form of communication.

“Say, Master Boq, is there perhaps a place where we can get clothes? I’m not particularly fond of wearing the same dress I was shot in.”

“There is a shop yes, at the outskirts of the Court of Miracles.”

“Could you bring us there first?”

“I honestly doubt there would be time left after the meeting.”

“Meeting?” they asked in unison.

Apparently there was a meeting scheduled they had to attend. Boq thought they had been updated, but the message had never gotten to them. There wasn’t much they could do about it now and the conversation fell into idle chatter.

Not long after, they entered the heart of the Court of Miracles. Unlike the low tunnels, this was a large open area with a high ceiling. There were pillars made of dry mud and clay and rocks so parts couldn't collapse. For an underground cave with no natural light available, it was very brightly lit. The place bustled with life and color. It astounded Glinda how many people could live underground.

Boq guided them through the crisscross of paths in-between the tents where people resided. Glinda and Elphaba could barely walk next to each other, and had to keep up not to lose Boq out of sight.

Near the edge of the cave was a larger tent that they entered. There was a low table and some pillows that functioned as seats. Fiyero was sitting at the head of the table, blowing at his hot cup of tea.

“Ah, I see you’ve made it to the Court safely. I hope the walk wasn’t too tiring for you, Miss Glinda.”

“Not at all. It feels good to finally get out of that room.”

“Please, settle down,” Fiyero gestured.

And so they did. “We’ll have to wait for one more before -”

“ _GOOD_ evening everyone!”

In the tent opening were standing two men with the widest grins on their face. Glinda immediately recognized them as the hosts of the Festival of Fools. What were their names again? Tibbett and Crope! They had entertained the crowd in front of the Palace of Justice and she vaguely remembered talking to them when the Festival had ended.

“How fashionably late are we?”

“You’re right on time actually,” Boq said.

Crope turned to Tibbett. “That won’t do. We should leave and come back in fifteen minutes.”

“Master Crope, I cannot remember the invitation being extended to you,” Fiyero said calmly.

Tibbett put his hand to his chest and gasped dramatically. “Me without Crope?”

“Tibbett without me?”

“Unacceptable.”

The boys sat down and that appeared to be the end of it. Glinda looked around the table and found it an odd bunch to be sitting together.

“Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” Fiyero started the meeting. “I’ve been thinking long and hard where the Court should be headed, and I believe the future, maybe even of all of Oz, will be in our hands. If we play our cards right.”

“Then we first must know what cards we’re dealt,” Boq mused.

“Correct. That’s why I anticipate many meetings in the future. Now Dr. Dillamond’s research is out in the open we have to start from scratch. Expecting the people to go against the Wizard after the research became public was clearly too naive. Meanwhile, the Wizard won’t stop his ethnic cleansing until he has run out of scapegoats.”

“A coup,” Elphaba stated. “You’re planning a coup.”

“I am indeed, Miss Elphaba,” Fiyero said. “I had hoped it would never come to this, but frankly, we’ve run out of options.”

Nobody in the tent objected that statement. Even Crope and Tibbett, who normally had a very playful aura hanging around them, didn’t underestimate the weight of the situation.

“I take that silence as an agreement. Now, as to why I summoned _you_ in particular. I need a small circle to lead this coupe. Tibbett, you’re father is a palace advisor. I’ll need as much intel as you can wring out of him. Crope, ehh-” Fiyero faltered.

“I can give swordfight lessons?” he proposed.

Boq was impressed. “You know how to swordfight?”

“To make stage combat look more realistic.”

“Of course.”

“Moving on. Boq and Elphaba, I’ll need your combined intellect to think at least ten steps ahead. If we fail this coup, a lot of lives will be at stake. It’s your job to prevent this.”

Glinda, being used to constant dismissal as Captain of the Guard, had expected the conversation to end there, and was pleasantly surprised to find out it didn’t. 

“Miss Glinda, you’ve told me you have acquired the same strategic skills as any Captain before you. Your skills are of the utmost important. I’m counting on you the most, as will most Ozians.”

She was flattered by such a high compliment, but felt inclined to correct part of that statement. “I’m afraid public opinion of me won’t be very high.”

“The way _you_ resigned? Sweetheart, you’re a legend,” Tibbett said.

In the corner of her eye, Glinda saw Elphaba shift uncomfortably. Under the table, her hand sought for Elphaba’s and gave it a short squeeze. Letting her know there was nothing to worry about. She felt Elphie’s muscles unclench.

Then Crope chimed in. “In fact, I’m surprised nobody in the court has thrown their panties at you yet.”

Her face grew hot and her body tensed. Elphaba noticed, and copied the hand squeeze back to her. It didn’t relax her as much as she would’ve liked. Before anyone else could make another comment, Glinda switched topics. “Right so,” she spoke in a higher pitch than normal. “About the plan?”

\--

The meeting had come to an end and Boq took a moment to let it all sink in, watching over the Court of Miracles. Tibbett offered to lead Glinda and Elphaba to their tent. Crope on the other hand spotted Boq, and walked towards him.

“Satisfied with the new plans, Master Boq?”

“There’s still a long way to go, but for now I think I am,” he said simply, his eyes on the group. “Miss Glinda sure is pretty, don’t you think?”

Crope followed his gaze and saw how close Glinda and Elphaba walked together. “I think your opportunity to woo her has already passed.”

He blushed, but was quick to recover with a retort. “Who said anything about wooing? If you’d woo everyone you found attractive you would’ve married half the Court by now.”

“Now don’t be jealous, Boq. I promise I’ll always have a special place in my heart for a certain Munchkin.” He winked and made his way to join the group.

Boq’s blush had now expanded up to his hairline. “Don’t let Tibbett hear you!” he called after him.

Crope turned his head and wriggled his eyebrows. “We know how to share.”

\--

Tibbett escorted them to their tent. It had been a long day and Glinda was almost collapsing of tiredness. Shopping for clothes would have to wait till tomorrow. 

“Here it is,” Tibbett pointed at a tent made out of several different fabrics. “A quaint tent for two with a light on the side. All lights have to be out by ten by the way. Nobody wants a fire hazard. Oh, and your designated food stall is around the corner to the left. You’ll find it tomorrow by just queuing the long line.”

“We get food supplies for the whole day, right?” Glinda asked.

“Correct. Sadly, it’s not much so you’ll have to pace yourself,” said Tibbett. “Also, make sure you’ll be able to recognize your tent, for you _will_ get lost the first couple of days. No maps are allowed; safety reasons. The sooner you know your surroundings the better.”

Elphaba hummed understandingly. “Anything else?”

“Well, I regretfully have to inform you you’re only two tents away from a priest. So if you two get up to something, better be quiet.” Tibbett winked.

Glinda’s face turned red, and was somewhat pleased to see Elphaba looked equally embarrassed.

“That won’t be necessary, so no regrets are needed.” Elphaba swiftly replied.

Tibbett pouted. “I was under the impression you are -”

“Careful, Master Tibbett. Do you really think it’s appropriate to insinuate such things in the company of a lady?” Elphaba cut him off sharply.

“How horrid!” a fourth voice joined the conversation. Crope had caught up with them and leaned with one arm on Tibbett’s shoulder. “Honestly, I cannot leave you alone for two minutes!” He swatted Tibbett playfully and turned his attention back to the girls. “My sincerest apologies. I had hoped he knew how to behave amongst proper society by now.”

“All is forgiven. I’m sure Master Tibbett meant well,” Glinda said with a dazzling smile. Elphaba shot her a puzzled look. “We will meet you gentlemen in the future I assume, but for now I believe it’s best to bid our farewells.”

“Right you are, Miss Glinda,” Crope agreed. “We’ll let you settle in. Fresh dreams!”

They exchanged goodbyes and got into their tent. One small place of their own within a buzzing beehive. It would be getting some used to, being in such a shared space at all times. She lit the lantern set next to their mattresses while Elphaba closed the flap of the entrance. 

“Wow,” Elphaba said suddenly. “What happened back there?”

Glinda waved out the lighter and looked confused at Elphaba. “What do you mean?”

“With Crope and Tibbett. You got all Miss Charming on them.”

“You’re saying I’m not charming as is?” She tossed her hair in an exaggerated manner. “You wound me, Miss Elphaba.”

“This was different,” Elphaba insisted entirely serious. “It was like you switched to another Glinda.”

Her face faltered. “Oh.”

Her whole body deflated, and Glinda flopped onto the mattress. “I did, didn’t I?”

Elphaba sat down next to her. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” that was a lie. “It just came naturally I suppose. Years of circling in society will do that to you. Deflecting instead of attacking.” Elphaba was looking at her intensely. She still wasn’t used to that level of scrutiny. “I mean, I’ve been inbetween worlds for so long and with all recent developments,” she gave Elphaba a shy smile, “I thought I had stripped those part away, but -” she stopped. “I sometimes don’t even know which Glinda I am anymore.”

“I think you’re all of ‘em.”

“But what if I don’t want to be all of them?” she answered quietly. “What if I don’t like certain parts of me… that are part of me?”

“Well,” said Elphaba awkwardly. “I definitely know a thing or two about that.”

Glinda reached over and brushed her cheek. “Elphie…”

“You don’t need to worry about me.” It sounded like a reflex more than anything else. “Besides, it makes sense you need time to adjust. You shouldn’t punish yourself for not yet being the person you are growing into.”

“You give sound advice, Elphie.”

“I suppose.”

“You do,” Glinda emphasized and brushed absent-mindedly through Elphaba’s hair. “You should listen to yourself sometimes.” 

Elphaba stared at her. Glinda stopped.

“We better get some sleep,” came the conclusion.

Glinda sighed. Fort Elphaba was as impenetrable as ever.

Elphaba reached inside her bag and gave Glinda the ugly nightgown that she had worn since the Corn Exchange. Silently, they faced away from each other and changed clothes. Glinda had never liked undressing with other people in the room. From a very young age Ama Clutch was not allowed to dress her, even though it was custom to do so. She could only enter once Glinda needed to accessorize. She had told Ama - and herself - that it was because of Ama's horrible fashion sense. Deep down, she knew that had nothing to do with it.

“Are you done?”

“Yes.”

Glinda kept her head down and pretended to be very interested in stuffing the pillow into a decent enough shape.

“Should I..?” Elphaba gestured to Glinda’s mattress. It was her way of letting Glinda know she didn’t mind sharing space tonight.

“No, that’s okay.” The words slipped out before she could stop them.

“Alright.”

No emotion was visible on Elphaba’s face. Tonight she was grateful that Elphaba had difficulty expressing intimacy, and Glinda hated herself for it. She blew out the light. 

Though she was exhausted, her mind was racing. She tossed around, but couldn’t block out the words. Sadly, she knew exactly why she was freaking out. All those suggestive remarks Crope and Tibbett made put her on edge. In the high circles she grew up in this topic was only discussed in hushed voices. For the first time, she was confronted head-on with her prudish nature.

“What is it?”

Glinda opened her eyes. “Hm?”

“I think I can actually _hear_ your brain mulling,” Elphaba whispered. “Do you... want to talk about it perhaps?”

“No.” Glinda chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Yes.” She propped up her head under her arm. “It’s just what Tibbett said… About the priest and all?”

Oz, this was embarrassing. She was glad Elphaba couldn’t see her in the dark. “I’ve never really thought about it I guess.”

“That’s not very surprising. Especially since you grew up in Gillikinese society. Sex isn’t really talked about in those circles.”

Her stomach turned at how bluntly those words were put. How was Elphaba able to talk about it so openly and easily? “I’m well aware that high society has rather strict rules on such subjects, but…” she paused. “I’m not sure it’s _just_ my upbringing.”

It was all so confusing. She never really questioned the strict policies growing up. It didn’t matter to her, because it wasn’t something she went looking for. Not because she thought it was shameful necessarily, but because she didn’t really care about it. She thought other people were exaggerating their feelings, like they were exaggerating their interest in men.

When she learned she liked women, she wondered if those attractions might change too. They hadn’t. They never felt particularly strong, and they didn’t feel particularly strong now. Even with Elphaba.

“Maybe,” Glinda started hesitantly, “Maybe I still need to adjust to the idea of liking women.”

“Maybe,” Elphaba allowed. “Or maybe you’re just not that interested in sex.”

The words hit her hard. She felt a sting in her eyes and let out a sob. “Oh Elphie, why do I have to make things so complicating?”

Elphaba moved closer and wiped away Glinda’s tears.

“Don’t,” she took Elphaba’s hand. “You’ll burn.”

“I’ll be fine. Some oil will fix it.”

It struck her how comforting Elphaba’s voice sounded. 

“Remember what you said to me? How our love is just the two of us?” Elphaba tugged a golden lock behind her ear. “I’m not the only one who is allowed to set boundaries. You’re not making anything complicating by being yourself, Glinda.”

Even more tears flowed after that. She flung her arms around Elphaba’s neck and held her close.

“Thank you,” she whispered into her ear.

Elphaba drew comforting circles on Glinda’s back. Humming a slow melody so soft, Glinda was only able to listen to it through the vibration of Elphaba’s body. The melody was drowsing her out, until it melted away.

“We make quite the unique pair, don’t we?”

Glinda let out a watery giggle through her tears. She gripped Elphaba even tighter and didn’t let go. Not another word was exchanged, as they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

\--

It was a long walk to the one clothing store of the entire Court. They both woke up rather early, and decided not to wait any longer and start the day. After going in the wrong direction at least three times, they found the clothing store that was installed in the basement of one of the safe houses. It was located on the outskirts of the slums that were no longer inside the walls of the Emerald City. These parts were barely patrolled by the Gale Force and therefore safer. 

The entire way there, Elphaba had her sourest expression on display. Glinda even had to drag her inside, but couldn’t force her to pick up a single piece of clothing. She sighed and decided to focus on getting some necessary items for herself before having a second go with Elphaba.

Shopping was usually one of her favorite hobbies. The rush of excitement to search for the perfect dress and be the prettiest girl at the next social gathering. To go in several stores and hunt down the most fitting jewelry and accessories to match. Moreover, it was a time spent with her socialite friends who came visit the capital a few times a year. The Amas kept the girls in check and organized a delicious lunch. It was superficial, and in any other circumstance she wouldn’t call those girls her friends, but for an afternoon it was _fun_. 

At the Court of Miracles however, shopping could not be more different. For one, all the clothes were hand-me-downs or tailored by people from the Court out of necessity. Nothing was really meant to be pretty, just efficient and cost beneficial.

Secondly, she was heavily confronted by how rich and privileged she really was. Glinda had been raised in a household that could always afford more than enough food. It was very normal in the upperclass to eat as much as you could. It was encouraged even: fatness showed prosperity and prosperity was considered beautiful.

But these clothes weren’t made for a Gillikenese upperclass girl. These clothes were meant for the people who had to work hard and could pay for little. In a Gillikenese shop, Glinda would’ve had a sea of choices. Here, she had to search hard and well to find something in her size.

After almost an hour pillaging through piles of clothes, she had found at least three decent looking dresses that fit her. Elphaba was finally browsing through some clothes. Curious, Glinda stood on her toes to see what she was looking at, without letting her notice she was watching. Elphaba held on to a pair of trousers, letting the fabric slide through her fingers. For a moment she seemed interested, but then tossed them aside and begrudgingly picked up a random dress.

She let Elphaba have some privacy and tried on a couple more dresses that weren’t completely hideous. If she would mend them a bit they could actually be pretty cute.

She walked out of the fitting room. Elphaba was browsing reluctantly through another pile. The task ahead of her wasn’t easy, but Glinda was determined to leave the shop with at least one piece of clothing Elphaba _actually_ liked. 

“I’m all done. You?”

Elphaba looked relieved for the out. “Yep. I’m ready to leave.”

“Come on Elphie, don’t lie. You didn’t even _try_ anything on.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll just wash this dress and be done with it.”

“Not happening,” Glinda decided for her on the spot. 

She pushed her dresses in Elphaba’s hands and started digging through the piles. She fished out a man’s dress shirt that looked about Elphie’s size and managed to find the trousers Elphaba was looking at earlier.

Glinda took back her dresses from a bewildered Elphaba and handed over the clothes. “Try these on.”

Elphaba’s eyes grew wider. “But these are…”

“The only piece of clothing you’ve actually shown interest in the entire time we’ve been here. Now hush,” Glinda pushed Elphaba inside the dressing room. “And go change.”

The curtain was drawn between them, and Elphaba was no longer able to object. Quietly she obeyed Glinda. There was some rustling, followed by a long stretch of silence. 

“Does it fit?” Glinda asked when she hadn’t heard any sound coming from the cabin for a while.

No reply.

“Elphie?” Glinda tried again, now slightly concerned.

Nothing.

“Okay, I’m getting worried so I’m coming in.”

She pushed the curtain to the side and wriggled herself into the small room. She closed the curtain immediately and turned around to see Elphaba sitting hunched up in a corner, her head resting on her knees. Glinda instantly realized she had made a terrible mistake.

“Oh Elphie, I’m so sorry. I’ve gone too far by pushing you outside your comfort zone. I’ll let you change again if you don’t like it.”

Elphaba stared ahead, not responding and Glinda took it as her cue to leave.

“No,” Elphaba said in a hoarse whisper. “Don’t go.”

Glinda closed the curtain again and sat down next to her. She waited for Elphaba to lead the conversation, but it was as if she had turned mute. Glinda needed to comfort her. To show Elphaba she was here for her. She let her hand trace over Elphaba’s back, but when her body tensed she immediately dropped her hand.

At a loss what to do, Glinda let the minutes pass by. Her brain was desperate for a solution, but sooner or later, something had to be said. “Elphie?” she started hesitantly. “I don’t want to force you to talk, but I’m really worried. Is there anything I can do or..?”

Elphaba took a shuddered breath and tried to answer, but no words came out and she shrugged hopelessly instead.

This made Glinda only panic. “If I knew you would react like this I would’ve never - it’s just you seemed so curious and I thought if I encouraged you - but I never. I never should’ve -”

“Glinda. Stop.” Elphaba took her hand briefly, gently. Her eyes found hers. The words formulated slowly. “I love it. I just… Never thought that clothes…” tears were welling up in her eyes. “Could make me feel like _me_.”

Elphaba buried her head in her knees. “Shit. I’m sorry. That doesn’t make any sense.”

Glinda had never seen Elphaba cry. Not when talking about Nanny’s death, or when talking about her complicated relationship with Frex. Even now, she refused to let any tears drop. Either out of stubbornness or so she could remain the right to deny she was crying.

It ached to see her like this. Carefully, Glinda dabbed the tears away with the palm of her hand so Elphaba didn’t have to. She mouthed a thank you, but was too unfocused to show any real appreciation.

“Help me understand.”

“I don’t know how to explain,” Elphaba sighed. “I know it sounds weird but… I’ve never felt comfortable in a dress.” 

“Because of the fabric?”

“No. Because I… it just never seems to _fit_ ,” she groaned in frustration and threw her head against the wall. “Do you… ever feel disconnected from yourself?”

The vulnerability had slipped back into her voice.

“How do you mean, disconnected?”

“You know, _disconnected_. Like you’re not part of your body. Like you want to crawl out of your own skin. I always pride myself for my knowledge, because I feel like I’m only my thoughts, and my body is but a vessel to carry these thoughts.”

Elphaba looked at her expecting a comment. A test to see if she had said anything abnormal.

“Go on,” Glinda said with an encouraging nod.

“So whenever I look in the mirror, I feel uneasily indifferent. I see myself, I know it’s me, but at the same time, I don’t really care. I know what I look like, why should I need the reminder? No need to bask in what is already known,” she paused. “But when I put on these clothes and looked in the mirror, I don’t know, it just felt _right_ somehow. All of a sudden, I couldn’t stop looking.”

“That must’ve been nice.”

“Yeah,” Elphaba said non-committedly, “but incredibly unfamiliar.”

Glinda thought for a moment. “You know what I think we should do?”

“What?”

“Get you some more pants.”

Elphaba looked at her in horror. “Oh no, we shouldn’t. Dress-up was fun, but let’s not get carried away.”

“Why not? Why must you be the one who suffers?”

Elphaba frowned. “ _You’re_ the one wearing waist-tight corsets.”

“It’s different,” she insisted. “The tightness of corsets may cause physical uncomfortableness, sure. But you’re uncomfortable because of something much deeper within yourself.”

Elphaba bit her lip and strained her arms wrapped around her knees some more. "I can’t do this. I can’t buy those clothes.”

“Then I will. Tell me what you’re really looking for, and I’ll get it for you. If it isn’t too hideous,” she added.

Elphaba grinned at that. She gave a few descriptors for Glinda to work with and she went her way. Even if it differed vastly from her own preference, it was surprisingly easy to find men’s clothing in Elphaba’s size and style. With every fitting, Elphaba got more comfortable. The mood grew playful as the morning went on, and for the final fitting Glinda had thrown in some suspenders and a hideous bowler hat for fun.

“Are you really sure about this?”

Elphaba looked in the mirror and fidgeted with the hat. It was slowly slipping over her left ear, making it a rather quirky sight.

“It’s just for a lark. Deep breath,” Glinda said and clipped the suspenders to the pants.

“Alright, now turn around. Let me take a look at you.”

Elphaba did as she was told. “What’s your opinion?”

“You should lose the bowler hat,” Glinda laughed.

“Hallelujah!” Elphaba tossed it frivolously into the air. “And the suspenders?”

Glinda took a step back and scanned her from top to bottom. “They work. If you like them, that is.”

She looked at herself in the mirror. “I think I do, actually.”

Elphaba fell silent, her eyes flickering over her own reflection. A slight blush crept on her face when she spotted Glinda admiring her through the mirror. Glinda winked.

Elphaba rolled her eyes to cover up that her blush had spread. “You’re having way too much fun with this.”

Glinda was definitely having fun with this. If only to see Elphaba indulge herself for once. It all made sense now. The boring black dresses she always wore; Glinda had thought it was to save money. Now she realized they had to be the only clothing designed for women Elphaba felt somewhat comfortable in. It was a crime really, Elphaba was incredibly handsome in dapper clothing. Her confidence made her even more attractive than she already was. 

Glinda slipped her hands around her waist and rested her chin on her shoulder. The touch drew Elphaba out of her own thoughts. “So now that we lost the stupid hat. What’s your _honest_ opinion?”

Glinda didn’t need to think twice. “You’re practically irresistible to kiss.”

“Oh.” Elphaba flushed. “Save that for later. It’s all too overwhelming right now.”

She had thought as much. “Understood,” she said, and drew her hands back to give her some space. “Just promise me you’ll tell me as soon as I can.”

“No need to worry about that, I will,” Elphaba grinned.

While Elphaba changed back into her old dress, Glinda paid for the clothes. She insisted on paying more when she realized how underpriced they were, even for second-hand clothing. She had the money, and taking care of others was the currency in the Court. It felt exploitive to pay the same price as those who could barely afford anything. 

“Will that be all, Miss?” The elderly Quadling shop owner asked, his eyes wrinkled in kindness and his smile was more gum than teeth. 

“Look Glinda,” Elphaba said out of the blue, who jokingly had put on a black pointy hat. “Am I good at shopping now?”

“Yes, you’re -” Glinda actually looked and her chin dropped. She didn’t know how Elphaba did it. Somehow she magnified the ugly old thing into a beautiful work of art. “You look _gorgeous_.”

“Har har, very funny. Even _I_ can tell this hat is ugly as sin.”

Elphaba was about to put the hat back on the rack, but Glinda rushed to stop her.

“No, leave it on.”

She took Elphaba’s chin in her hand and turned her head slightly to see it en profile. Just as she thought: Elphaba’s strong jawline and sharp chin amplified the sharp edges of the hat. The black colour blended perfectly with her green skin. 

“Hell and Oz, how do you pull it off? You’re such a natural beauty.”

“Oh, and now you’ve lied! Better confess to the unionist priest on our block tonight.”

“Honestly now! I’d never lie about such a thing!” Glinda turned her attention to the shop owner. “We’ll buy this too.”

“Really?” she said flatly.

“Yes, _really_. Nobody else is going to pull off this hat. It was practically made for you.”

She sighed in surrender. Glinda beamed and affectionately booped her nose. “You won’t regret it, Elphie.”

Defeated, Elphaba looked to the shop owner who gave her a sympathetic smile. 

They left the store in good spirits. On the way back to their tent, Glinda gushed about how pretty they were going to look in their new clothes. They walked through a narrow tunnel cast in a soft torch light. The echo of their footsteps made it feel like they were alone together, transported from the busy caverns around them. Glinda looked over to Elphaba, and smiled when she saw the slight frown on her face, deeply drawn into her own thoughts. 

As if she noticed the sudden attention, she brushed her hand against Glinda’s. “You made the first crack. How did you do it?” 

“Do what?”

Elphaba looked at her in slight awe. “Make me believe I have a soul.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Okay so in the book I headcanon Glinda as somewhere on the asexual spectrum. I didn’t intend to incorporate it as explicitly in this fic like I did with aro!Elphaba. But over the course of the story it slipped in anyway so we now have ace-spec!Glinda in this fic too! ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	12. Wonderful Life, Wonderful Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning(s):** mentions of a genocide

“Morning.”

Glinda fluttered her eyes open and was pleasantly surprised how close she was to Elphaba. She snuggled even closer so their faces almost touched. “Morning to you too.”

“Oof, you have terrible breath.”

“And _you_ ,” Glinda poked her in the ribs making Elphaba involuntary squeal. “Have terrible manners.”

“I was thinking,” Elphaba said, not challenging that comment. “To take a walk today?”

They hadn’t really left their tent the past few days. Only for essentials like food or hygiene, and of course books for Elphaba, who seemed to need those as much as she needed air.

“That sounds lovely. Crope’s going to teach me swordfighting today. Maybe you can come along?”

Elphaba’s eyes shifted. “Is that today?”

Glinda made a confirming sound whilst studying Elphaba. Part of her wondered if their constant retreat inside their tent was because Elphaba was intimidating to go outside in the clothes they had bought for her.

She decided to test this, and let her fingers glide down Elphaba’s arm which instantly shivered at her touch. “Hey. What’s gotten you so worried?”

Elphaba frowned. “I’m not worried.”

She raised an eyebrow, which was all that was needed for Elphaba to crack. The wall she had once put on was slowly breaking down, and if she wasn’t so terrified she seemed relieved by it too. 

“Fine. Yeah, It’s just… I’m barely used to these clothes myself. It’s too much to go outside in this.”

“I’m not saying this isn’t going to be a difficult transition, but you’ve quickly grown comfortable in pants around me, right? That will happen around other people too.”

“They’ll ask questions.”

“So let them. I’ll just tell them to find their own handsome beau,” Glinda murmured against her lips.

“I object to the word handsome.” 

“Overruled.” Glinda smiled and kissed her sweetly. “Let me compliment you, you silly thing.”

Elphaba was a quick learner and shut up immediately when she realized it lead to more kisses. They had only gotten halfway dressed when Crope and Tibbett were outside their tent.

“One moment,” Elphaba called out, slightly annoyed that their make-out session had been disrupted. They disentangled from one another and Glinda took a napkin to wipe of the red smudges on Elphaba’s cheeks.

“Did you buy lipstick? When did you even apply it?” Elphaba whispered in confusion, making sure this conversation wasn’t overheard outside their tent.

“Traded with some Quadling girls. And when you changed into your shirt,” Glinda smoothed the collar when she noticed it was crooked. Her fault completely, she thought with a smile.

“Turn around.”

“I know the drill,” Elphaba mumbled as she put on her boots whilst Glinda quickly got dressed.

They got out of their tent a good while later. Tibbett and Crope disrupted their own conversation to look between the two of them with amused grins.

“My, what rosy cheeks,” Tibbett winked.

“Looks like we interrupted something.”

“You did nothing of the sort. We overslept,” Elphaba said sternly. 

She tried to shield Glinda away from any uncomfortable sexual implications. Glinda could kiss her for it. Not that the distraction was necessary, because the boys were already all over Elphaba’s clothes.

“Ooh! Miss Elphaba, you look absolutely dashing in that outfit,” cooed Crope.

“Miss Glinda’s fashion sense has already rubbed off on you I see.” 

Elphaba smiled sheepishly, and was stuck figuring out a reply. Now it was Glinda’s turn to help her out. “I’m willing to extend my knowledge to you boys too.”

They squealed. 

“I’ve been _dying_ to try out a corset, but I cannot get the laces right,” Tibbett said. “I feel like I’m breaking a rib. That can’t be good, right?”

“I need help with my make-up palette. Tibbs and I disagree what colours suit me.”

Glinda smiled. They already felt like better friends than any of the socialite girls she had acquainted with over the years. She agreed to help them as a way to repay them for the swordfight lessons. 

They had a long walk ahead of them towards a more open space to practice. Elphaba dug her hands inside her pockets and got out a slice of bread and an apple. They’d gotten too distracted with smooches that they’d forgotten to eat. Thank Oz for Elphaba thinking ahead! She gave the bread to Glinda and ate the apple herself.

The group entered a tunnel that dropped in temperature and the conversation fell dead. It was humid and Glinda thought for a moment she heard muffled wails. She walked closer to Elphaba, but barely saw her in the shadow of the light Crope had brought. 

As they moved on, the screams became more pronounced. They passed an Arjiki woman, facing the wall. She was muttering in a different language - praying, maybe? - and had her hands in the shape of a diamond. Like the tattoos that most Arjikis had on their body, Glinda realized.

When they heard another wail, this time almost like a ghost haunting the present, Elphaba spoke up: “What the hell _is_ that?”

“SH!” the boys hushed her harshly.

Elphaba looked at Glinda, non-plussed, but she had no idea what was going on either and shrugged.

“Sorry about that,” Tibbett said after a good while. “I guess nobody told you, but it’s incredibly disrespectful to talk in the Tunnels That Scream.”

“It’s where Arjikis pay respect to their ancestors who got slaughtered and erased from history,” Crope explained the unasked question, as if this didn’t make it _more_ confusing.

“What happened?” Glinda asked, more interested in keeping a conversation going than the actual history.

“The details are a bit fuzzy to me, but I picked up some things when I travelled around the Vinkus as a child. I believe this occurred around the time Ozma the Warrior ruled.”

“From what I’ve read she conquered the Glikkus for their emerald, but I found nothing about her relationships with the Vinkus,” Elphaba said.

“Oh, you won’t find this in any history books. It was a past too shameful to remember. The Regent made sure all historical records got erased. Unfortunately for her, Vinkus tribes pass down history verbally.”

“Are you an expert on Vinkan history?” Elphaba asked, not in a menacing way but not particularly curious either.

“I haven’t studied it, if that’s what you’re asking,” Crope replied. “No, like most Evians I’m from a family of nomads of the desert. One of my dads traded a lot with Vinkus tribes. I grew up with a lot of Scrow and Yunamata folktales and heard some stories of the Arjiki tribes too.”

“You’re from Ev? I never would’ve guessed,” Glinda said.

"You can't get this beautiful brown skin from living in the City, it's an Ev desert exclusive. Anyway, before Oz had a capital this place was called,” he snapped his fingers as if it made him help find the solution.

“The Nubbly Meadows,” Elphaba filled in.

“Thank you! Yes! So there’s this crazy belief or religion or whatever wherein a dragon dreamt the world and slept in a cavern. Once it awakes, it will burn the world into flames. Ozma the Warrior, believed this cavern would be at the heart of Oz.”

“Why awaken a dragon that will burn you alive?” Glinda asked.

“Oh, the Warrior was delusioned by power and thought she could control the dragon once awaken and use it as a weapon,” Tibbett explained.

“Exactly. To dig up this dragon, she needed a lot of working hands and marched her army to the Vinkus. She - lets say - _persuaded_ a lot of young Arjikis to dig these tunnels for her for little pay and under terrible working conditions.”

“No wonder,” Glinda let her hand slide next to the rocky walls, “I thought these tunnels were too perfectly sized for humans to be natural.”

“Yeah, it took them years to dig. It’s a gigantic maze. Eventually the Warrior was losing faith of ever finding the dragon and felt tricked for believing such a children’s tale. In a fit of rage, she smashed the entrance to the tunnels, with the Arjikis still in it. Only a handful survived.”

Glinda gasped out loud, even Elphaba was visibly shocked. “That’s… seriously fucked up.”

“It is. The tale never made it round the rest of Oz, but the desert never forgets. Generations later, when the Emerald City was being built, some opportunistic Arjikis traveled to the City and relocated the tunnels. They kept it a secret, and made it their safe haven in case the Ozmas would ever turn on them again. Only recently outsiders have been given sanctuary thanks to Fiyero.”

Glinda recalled Fiyero talking about deciding to open up the Court to outsiders. Only now she began to see the magnitude of how difficult and painful that decision must’ve been.

“That’s why it’s so disrespectful to talk in the Tunnels That Scream.”

“Sure, but what _is_ that sound?” Elphaba asked.

Tibbett shrugged. “Who knows, who cares. Elderly Arjiki usually believe they are old spirits of their tribe visiting the present. Others believe it’s just a wind or echo. Some Lion reminded it of ghosts he once met in the Gillikinese Forest, but he was probably just stoned as hell. There are some great herbs in that forest, which is not the point I know, stop judging me with your eyes darling. Anyway, It doesn’t really matter what the sound is, but it gives Arjikis a place to pay respect to their ancestors. The rest of us should respect that. We are after all humble guests in Arjiki territory.”

That arose a question Glinda had been dying to ask. “So how did you two come in contact with the Court?”

“Through me,” said Crope. “Evians need a special clearance to be residents of Oz. My father got one since he’s an important exporter. As long as you’re a minor, you’re allowed to stay through your parents. Once you become an adult though,” he made a snappy noise with his mouth. “Well, then you gotta have your own clearance, which I knew I wouldn’t be qualified enough for. So we had to look at other options if I wanted to stay in the City.”

 _And with Tibbett,_ was the underlying tone. 

“I’m Gillikinese and part of the bourgeois so technically I can go outside whenever I want,” Tibbett said. “If it were not for my relationship with Crope, that is. I still visit my family on holidays if I can. They don’t condone me, but don’t condemn me either. Just ignore an important part of me they refuse to embrace. As long as I don’t bring up Crope I’m welcome.”

 _Wow sounds familiar_ , Glinda thought. She didn’t know how her parents were doing. She didn’t even know if they knew she was still alive. Did they mourn her death? No, not _her_ death, they’d mourn their perfect Gillikinese daughter she had forced herself to be.

That’s what she had to keep reminding herself: her parents didn’t miss the _real_ Glinda. So the ache in her stomach should stop missing her real parents too. 

\--

Boq walked around the tunnels of the Court. He liked to stretch his legs, because there was nothing more dull than sitting around in a dark cave all day. Maybe it was that hard working Munchkin blood that made him long for those eternally stretching meadows and that boring, simple Munchkin life.

He should put in another request to go outside the wall again soon. He could use a different view. For now he had another hour or so to kill before the meeting would start. Once a week their charmed circle got together and discussed their individual progress. So far plans moved slowly. Nobody had exactly planned a coup before and it was mostly guesswork. The enigma Boq and Elphaba had to unravel was to calculate the minimum amount of people they needed for the coup to be successful, and try to keep the Court safe for those who stayed behind, even if the coup failed.

Not an easy task, just as working with Elphaba wasn’t an easy task. He liked her, that he didn’t doubt. It had surprised him how rapidly friendships could be formed in such concentrated conditions. They had a similar appreciation for witty banter and both valued intellectual research. But he had already found out that Elphaba could be infuriatingly stubborn. 

The sound of sticks clashing together disrupted his thoughts. He was used to the screams by now - even though he had had some sleepless nights at first - but this he hadn’t heard before. Curious, Boq tried to trace the source of it and after a few turns found an open area good enough for practicing swordfighting.

Crope and Glinda were panting and sweating, each of them gripping their wooden blades. They circled around each other for an opening to strike. If one made a move, the other instantly reacted and countered. It looked impressive, even after just a few weeks of training. Although, and Boq could not help smile at this, Crope definitely gave a lot of flair and twirls to his swings to make it look way more dramatic.

“Good afternoon to you all.”

He got a few friendly acknowledging greetings of his presence as Boq walked closer to the spectacle. Then his eyes fell on two figures, Elphaba and Tibbett respectively, who were laying on the ground, with their heads propped up on their elbows, drooling over the show.

Boq put his hand to his temple and sighed. “Seriously, guys?”

“What? We’re simply observing the ancient art of swordfighting,” Elphaba said, keeping her eyes focused on Glinda.

“We are?” Tibbett grinned. “I keep getting distracted by their _scandalous_ sleeveless outfits.”

“I’m not much for prayer, but amen.”

Tibbett turned his head to Boq. “You can watch too. We’re generous enough to share.”

Boq wrinkled his nose. “They _smell_.”

“ _Hey_!” Glinda looked at him offended, and immediately had to take a defensive stand to counter Crope’s attack.

“Excellent form!” he praised her.

“Everything smells down here, Master Boq,” Elphaba raised, emphasizing the honorific because she knew it annoyed him. “Or did you forget we are underground and located near sewers?”

In an hour he had to put up with Elphaba’s banter and he preferred not to waste any energy on it before that so he directed his attention to Glinda and Crope. “You’re not bothered by this?”

Crope smirked. “Tibbett’s usually into weirder-”

“ _Okay_ , never mind! Shouldn’t have asked,” Boq quickly talked over him.

“Frankly, Boq,” Glinda spoke, staying focused on the combat, “you’ve been far more distracting since your arrival than _those_ two.”

“Don’t say that, Glinda!” Tibbett protested and pretended to wave off a flush on his cheek with a fan he might as well have conjured up out of thin air. “You’ll excite our poor Munchkin so much he will shiver himself to sleep tonight.”

“Sleep?! He’ll have far more fun things on his mind!”

With a swift curve Glinda disarmed Crope and put her sword against his chest. “You’ve been far too forward, Crope. It’s time to direct the conversation to a subject more civil.”

“I second that!” Boq piped in.

“Perhaps this is your and Tibbett’s idea of banter, but I do not appreciate suggestive remarks on my behalf.” she kept her eyes steady on Crope and dropped her voice. “We can talk about this more properly after training. When not all eyes are on us. It’s a rather personal matter you see.”

Crope’s face had gone red and he confusedly put his hands up in surrender. “Yes, I mean - y-yeah, we can talk about it, of course.”

She gave him a nod and dropped the sword to her side.

Boq’s eye fell on Elphaba, who had been very quiet this whole encounter. She glowed with pride, and he realized she had stayed silent on purpose. Elphaba knew Glinda could fight her own battles and if she had intervened she would only crush what confidence was growing within Glinda.

How beautiful, he thought, to be so devoted to someone. His little crush on Glinda seemed silly in comparison. 

“Meeting’s in an hour,” Boq announced to the group. “Just a reminder before you lose track of time.”

“Great. Leave us alone now. You’ve ruined the carefree mood.”

The hint of a smile on Elphaba’s face was enough for Boq to know she was provoking him, and he didn’t mind playing along. “Don’t forget to clean up your drool when you’re done, _Miss Elphie_ ,” and with an exaggerated spin and the sound of laughter of his friends he stomped off dramatically.

\--

Elphaba read the same paragraph over and over again until her head started spinning. Oz, these unionist writings were so dense. It was research day and she had been wrestling with this particular text for several hours. Behind her, Glinda was browsing through their book collection to find something she could use.

Elphaba decided she deserved a break and closed the book. She put her hands behind her and leaned back. “Hey I forgot to ask - how did it go with Crope and Tibbett yesterday?”

“Oh, pretty good. I told them that I’ve only started to figure out how I want to express love and their constant string of insinuations feel weirdly invasive. They apologized sincerely for their behavior.”

Elphaba grinned. “You may have terrified them a little bit.”

Glinda scoffed unbelievingly. Her eyes were scanning the book in front of her intensely and she frowned. “Elphie, what’s this language? It isn’t Ozian.”

Elphaba looked at the big book that looked older than history itself. “No idea- wait let me see.”

She adjusted her body to get a better look. “Hm, I believe Sarima gifted it to me a few days ago. She had no use for it and knew from Fiyero I liked reading, but I don’t -” she let her eyes get accustomed to the letters and foreign signs. They seemed to dance before her eyes. It wasn’t an alphabet she was familiar with. “Wait, can you read this?”

Glinda squinted her eyes. “Barely. But that’s just it. I shouldn’t be able to read this _at all_. I only ever learnt Ozian.”

Elphaba bowed closer. “So what _can_ you read?”

“This,” Glinda pointed at a sign with the biggest typography. “I believe this means ‘strength’ or ‘power’ or something similar. I don’t know why I know that,” she muttered in confusion. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but… could this be a Grimmerie?”

“Maybe?” Elphaba frowned and laid her hand on the page. Instantly the book fluttered to a different page. The letters rearranged before their eyes.

“Sweet Oz,” Glinda breathed out. “I thought Grimmeries were a myth. Why would Sarima give something so powerful away?”

“She said she couldn’t open it.” Elphaba let her eyes flicker eagerly over the page. “This word means ‘light’ I think. But I can’t tell if it has to do with brightness or weight.”

“Weightless, I’d say.” They hovered over the book in silence, trying to decipher its content and sink in the power that came with it. Glinda moved at once and slammed the book shut. “We mustn’t.”

Elphaba studied her. “Why is that?”

“You know why,” Glinda shuddered a breath and fiddled with her sleeve to avoid Elphaba’s gaze.

“Magic is forbidden.”

“Exactly. We cannot let curiosities cloud our judgement. Magic is dangerous and outlawed for a reason.”

“Only so the Wizard weakens his opponent and cannot be beaten at his own game,” Elphaba said. “Can’t you see that this book can help you _control_ your magic? No more sporadic outbursts due to emotion, but using spells at your own will. Isn’t that what you want?”

Glinda bit her lip and did not reply. Elphaba decided it was best to drop the subject and turned back to the unionist papers she was reading. After an hour or so, when Glinda could no longer pretend to be interested in her nails, she carefully shoved the Grimmerie under her pillow for later tonight, not noticing the glistening pride in Elphaba’s eyes.

\--

The blur of days turned into weeks and then months. The coup went weirdly undiscussed outside meetings, but it was the underlying thread of their everyday life. Elphaba had collected so many books for the research their tent was more library than sleeping space. The only book of interest to Glinda was the Grimmerie, which she studied in an almost religious manner. When she wasn’t reading, she was either practicing magic or getting swordfight lessons from Crope. 

Elphaba had to admit Glinda was getting scarily good at magic. After just a few months she could decipher most symbols in the Grimmerie. The only reason she wasn’t equally matched in practice was because there was little practice space within the Court. 

Elphaba’s interest on the other hand were more academic, but every now and then she let herself be tutored by Glinda in spellcraft. Most of the time it was just to blow off steam and forget the heavy reading material for a bit.

But as liberating as the Court had been for Elphaba, even she couldn’t deny living in a underground cave was less than ideal. The humid air made her skin itch that a few weeks ago expanded to a nasty rash. The Rabbit that had treated Glinda had given her some balm to stop the rash from spreading and to her relief even made her skin less itchy.

Not being able to see daylight was messing with her head the most. There was no way telling what time it was. Though the Court kept everyone on a normal daily schedule, for all Elphaba knew she had lunch in the middle of the night. After Boq gushed about his day in the meadows outside the walls Elphaba decided to put in a request to go outside as well. When she mentioned it to Glinda she immediately objected: “What if you get caught!”

“If I lay down I’ll be one with the grass. Nobody will notice.”

Glinda failed to bite back a laugh.

“It’s outside the walls with no patrols,” Elphaba eased her worries. “Besides, we could practice magic in a big open field for once.”

That single handedly managed to convince Glinda to tag along. The days leading up to it went by even slower. Now that they finally had a date to go outside it felt all the more suffocating to be underground. 

Elphaba slept little that night, but she was used to only a few hours of sleep. Glinda on the other hand, had been too excited and woke up several times during the night. It led to a very grumpy Glinda in the morning, to the amusement of Elphaba. 

Her moodiness had completely vanished once they were in the basement and only one staircase away from their day of freedom. A young Arjiki man registered their names and informed Elphaba and Glinda that they should be be back before sundown or a search party would go looking for them.

The first step outside in months. The daylight was blindingly bright. They immediately had to sit down for a few minutes and let their eyes get accustomed to the sun. The slight breeze stung hard on Elphaba’s skin, she wasn’t used to that anymore either. 

When they got a bit more used to it, they walked towards an open spot in the field to safely practice magic. At first they tried casting spells together, but Elphaba quickly lost interest. Glinda proved to have advanced much further anyway and it was to her benefit to practice alone.

Elphaba settled down against a big tree and opened the book she brought along. Every so often she glanced in the direction of Glinda. Even after all these months, she couldn’t quite believe it. Was she sure it hadn’t all been an elaborate prank? No matter how genuine Glinda’s affections, the second-guessing never stopped.

Elphaba realized she had been staring when Glinda looked right back, her eyebrows high and delighted. Once she knew _she_ knew, Glinda bowed before her audience and went back to her training. She didn’t mind the staring when the opportunity arose to show off. 

A few hours passed by. Tired from her training Glinda flopped next to Elphaba and laid her head in her lap. She let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m _exhausted_.” 

Elphaba read the rest of the paragraph before replying. “You did practice for a long time, yes.”

“Enough of that.” Glinda reached for the book and shut it. “No more reading for today.”

“Oh? Someone needs attention?” Elphaba teased.

Glinda flushed and for a second seemed to object, but then she crossed her arms and said: “And what if I do? What are you going to do about it?”

“Hmm, I’m afraid I don’t have a sufficient answer to your demands right now. I shall have to take a three hour nap to refresh my mind and muse over your conundrum.” she closed her eyes and tried not to smile, even when Glinda let out an audible huff.

“Alright, Elphie. You win. Now can you _please_ stop pretending to be asleep?”

Elphaba didn’t give in and stubbornly stuck to her play.

“C’mon Elphie. Don’t waste our day outside! I know you’re _awaaake_.” Glinda almost sang.

She fluttered her fingers over her stomach and Elphaba let out a giggle, horrified as she did it. Glinda looked in awe at her hand and what it had accomplished. “You’re ticklish!”

“No, I had a cold. It was a cough. A cold cough. Look out, I might make you ill.”

“Ill you say? Are you sure?”

“Don’t you dare!” Elphaba warned her. She pressed her body against the tree as Glinda’s hands came dangerously close. Elphaba shifted her body to the left. “Glinda! I swear to - Stop it!” 

She leaned too far away and toppled into the grass. Glinda immediately took advantage of the situation and pinned her down, tickling her merciless. Elphaba could not stop her body for shaking and laughing.

“This treacherous body of mine! How dare it betray me!” she barked.

“I demand attention!”

“Fine..!” Elphaba wheezed. “Please… Stop!”

Glinda stopped and the moment Elphaba could breathe again she instantly bursted into a coughing fit. 

“I can’t believe the day has come. After all this time my secret is out.”

Glinda smiled. “Oh, I will definitely abuse this new power, don’t you worry.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

Elphaba sighed. She couldn’t be mad though, not with Glinda sitting on her lap and the calming autumn landscape behind her. Her rosy cheeks complementing the yellow and reds of the trees upon the hilltop. She took Glinda’s hand and planted a chaste kiss. “I… You’re… How did…”

“Sound the alarm bells, Elphaba of Notre Dame has lost the ability to retort.”

“You don’t like compliments? Alright then.” Elphaba said and settled down into the grass, her arms spread and her eyes closed.

“Noo!” Glinda whined. “Tell me.”

Elphaba grinned and wrapped her arms around Glinda’s waist, guiding herself up until they were face to face. She grew timid whenever she got so close to Glinda. It was an intimacy she couldn’t quite understand, but she had always been an eager learner. She wasn’t certain she was managing to express that to Glinda. How much she cared for her.

Glinda giggled nervously when Elphaba kept staring. “What is it?”

All the words she had once known were lost to her. Stunned to silence. By a Gillikinese girl with one innocently simple question. How could she possibly articulate - that perfectly curled hair falling down her shoulders and that precious smile and the little freckles on her nose Elphaba adored and Glinda was glad to see fading with summer’s end. No words could do _her_ justice. When Elphaba found her voice again her reply did not sound louder than a whisper. “I just can’t believe I get to be with you.”

The impact of those words were visible in Glinda’s eyes and Elphaba answered the unspoken question. “You may.”

Glinda cupped her cheeks and smiled into the kiss. It was a mess. They were both smiling too widely to properly kiss. So Glinda kissed Elphaba on her nose, her cheeks, her eyelids instead and buried her head into her neck. “Start believing it, my darlingest Elphie. Because I will not stop adoring you.”

Elphaba held her close until it became too overwhelming for her senses. She pulled away and Glinda looked confused by the abrupt shift. 

“Touches feel weird again,” Elphaba explained apologetically. 

Glinda masked her disappointment as best she could. “I get it. Want to lay next to each other instead?”

Elphaba nodded and they settled down. Her own body was freaking her out. It felt as if a thousand tiny bugs were crawling in her skin. Was this really what physical contact did to her? Making her feel so overwhelmed she felt nothing at all? The grass pricked in her neck and the sun disappeared between a small cloud, making it instantly cooler. If she could concentrate on those things - everything that wasn’t inside her own body - maybe the storm inside her would settle down as well. So she focused on the clouds, the wind against her skin, the steady breathing of Glinda next to her. The song of sounds slowly lulled her into serenity. 

Quite some time past before her mind felt clearer again. She turned her head to Glinda, who was already looking at her. Or was she? Her brow was furrowed and her gaze was somewhat unfocused. 

Elphaba waved her hand in front of her face. “Hey - you there?”

Glinda blinked and smiled at her, but it was an uneven smile. “I was just thinking, sorry.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Just a realization,” Glinda said as she plucked absentmindedly at the grass. “I miss my parents. More than I thought I would.”

Elphaba opened her mouth and then closed it again. She wasn’t sure how to reply to that. Glinda noticed.

“I’m not looking for an answer from you. It's the first time I can admit it to myself. I miss them. Or the thought of them. I miss _something_. That’s all I know.”

It was insensitive to say, but Elphaba did it anyway. “But… why?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Glinda rolled on her back and put her hands on her stomach. “Because it was familiar. Because I was raised with wealth. Because, maybe deep down, I believed I could do good.”

“But you hated it. You had to hide so much of yourself.”

“I know.” Glinda mumbled. “But it made _sense_. Nothing makes sense anymore.”

“You seem to be doing alright with magic though.”

She smiled and Glinda returned it, briefly. “When I focus on magic I don’t have to focus on anything else.”

Elphaba swallowed. She never wanted to think about the day she left for the Court either. “Did I ever tell you why I wasn’t in the bell tower the day of my supposed arrest?”

She looked intrigued.

“Frex talked to me. The day before, I mean. He opened up to me about… about something personal. And well, he -” Elphaba inhaled sharply. “He saw a piece of himself in _me_ , Glinda.”

Something sparked inside her, just for a moment, before she smothered it. “But he doesn’t understand. It’s not- it’s different. It’s too difficult. For me.”

“What is?”

“He has his religion. I never thought it was meant for me, but he said it was. I guess that’s why father…” panic rose, and Glinda widened her eyes.

“Frexspar,” she corrected herself in a whisper. “That’s why Frex - I…” she cleared her throat awkwardly. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. He could never forgive me for what I’ve done.”

“I think you’re wrong there.”

Elphaba scoffed.

“I’m serious. He rose up against Morrible. Said he would grant you sanctuary.”

She looked at her in disbelief. “He did?”

“Well, yes. If anything he seemed to blame _me_ ,” Glinda frowned. “Saying I would destroy what little good that was left inside you.”

“Oh.”

“I shouldn’t have mentioned it,” she quickly apologized.

“No, it’s good you did," Elphaba said as she tried to suppress the pit in her stomach. "It… clears things up.”

\--

A week after their day outside Elphaba and Glinda were called in for an unannounced meeting.

“Sorry we’re late,” Glinda apologized for the both of them when they entered the tent.

“Not at all,” Fiyero replied. He was bowed over a piece of paper with a heavy frown on his face.

Boq actually looked up, and remembered his polite smile a beat too late. “Crope and Tibbett won’t join us today anyway. It’ll be just the four of us.” 

“I thought we were on schedule,” Elphaba said as she sat down. “Did something come up?”

“We need to bring in that Quadling priest that overlooks the church near the palace.” Fiyero didn’t seem to address anyone in particular so Glinda spoke up.

“You mean the priest on our block? Didn’t he take a vow of silence?”

“He did.”

Elphaba looked from Fiyero - who was still studying the piece of paper - to Glinda - who seemed just as confused why this meeting was so important it couldn’t wait till tomorrow - and back again. Something was off. 

“Perhaps I can talk to him,” Glinda offered after a long stretch of silence.

“Good. Yeah that’d be great,” Fiyero said with a forced smile and gave her a quick glance. “Glinda. Thank you.”

Elphaba squinted her eyes at him. “This can’t be why you called us here. What’s going on?”

Finally Fiyero seemed to acknowledge she was in the room too. He scraped his throat. “Fine. I guess there’s no easy way of telling this. Elphaba, you’re being targeted.”

“How could this possibly be news? We know the Gale Force is looking for me,” she said calmly.

“It’s gotten worse,” Boq explained. “One of our suppliers collected a bunch of flyers. Apparently the city is covered in it. They’re putting a price on your head.”

Glinda looked far more concerned than Elphaba felt. Elphaba pointed at the piece of paper Fiyero was looking at earlier. “Is that one of ‘em? Can I see?”

Fiyero and Boq shared a hesitant look.

She grew impatient. “Oh c’mon! You already told your devastating news, let’s not stop sharing now.”

Fiyero slided the paper towards her. Glinda gave it one glance and instantly threw a comforting arm around her shoulders. It was a drawing of Elphaba. Although _drawing_ might be too generous a word. It was en profile so they could overdrew her nose, making it bigger and sharper than it already was. Like a strange puffy carrot poking at the edge of the paper. Her eyebrows were bushier and drawn into an angry frown. Her hair was long and like a hairy spider had climbed on top of her head. The green was added later, but it wasn’t done neatly. They were quick green lines even going outside her face. A toddler could’ve coloured it in for all she knew. Then her eyes fell on the written text.

**THE WICKED WITCH OF THE WEST - WORTH: 500 GOLD PIECES IF DELIVERED TO THE GALE FORCE**

A whole family could live a year off that kind of money. People would rip her limbs apart if it meant getting a small sum. Her eyes focused back on the drawing instead. She didn’t look human nor did she look like an Animal or even animal. It was a caricature. _She_ was a caricature. Elphaba felt like throwing up. The wicked witch of the western city, where all the so-called low life, sinners and degenerates lived. This was what she stood for. The archangel of the scum of the earth. 

Glinda mumbled something to her, but the fog in her brain was too thick to hear the words that were said. Elphaba’s vision had grown dark around the edges. She grinded her teeth. “They want a wicked witch? Fine. I’ll fucking give them one.”


	13. In the Eye of a Hurricane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning(s):** multiple depictions of violence, and ‘police’ brutality. 
> 
> General warning that from now on chapters will be pretty upsetting. Please continue with caution and take care of yourself.

It was the middle of the night when Fiyero hurried his wife to one of the exits of the Court of Miracles. He hadn’t told her about his plan and knew he could only tell her about it when the plan was already in progress. She wasn’t going to like it and by the reluctance in her pace, she probably knew that too. 

They entered the tunnel that was lying underneath the Peach and Kidneys. This was where Fiyero halted and tried to make out Sarima’s expression as best as he could in the dark. 

“Are you _now_ going to tell me what this is all about?”

“Yes.” _I guess I have to at one point_ , Fiyero thought. He didn’t like to admit it, but his wife could scare him sometimes. “You’ll join the caravan crossing the Kumbricia’s Pass tonight.”

She scoffed. “I’m out. Fiyero have you lost your mind? This is my home!”

“No. The Vinkus is our home. Someone needs to rule at Kiamo Ko while the coup takes place in Emerald City tomorrow. There needs to be royalty ready to stand with our people, when the Gale Force marches into our homeland.”

“ _If_ they march into our homeland. Do you have so little confidence in your own plan?”

“I have little confidence in general, except when it comes to you. You’re the real heart and ruler of the Arjiki, Sarima.”

“Oh cut the crap!” Sarima spat out. “Don’t patronize me like I’m one of your diplomats. You’re putting me aside like a pathetic housewife! I can be useful!”

“I know you can.” Fiyero laid a hand on her belly. “But you’re making decisions for two now.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “Damn you.” Sarima put her fists to his chest and stomped away. “Damn you for doing this to me!”

He wasn’t sure if she meant sending her away or getting her pregnant. His chest ached and the punches grew weaker. No more frustration left, she let her body sag into his arms.

“If you die, I’ll kill you.”

He knew better than to chuckle at that. “I know,” he said instead. “Let’s hope it won’t come to that.”

\--

That morning the Court woke up before dawn. The atmosphere was grim whilst loved ones whispered encouragements and said their goodbyes. There was so much uncertainty that translated itself into quietness. The suppliers handed out food without a single word. The people who signed up to storm the Palace got handed their weapons with only a firm nod. 

Glinda put on her gloves and wrapped a shawl around her head. She looked over to Elphaba who was covered in black from head to toe. Her dark hair was hanging loose so Glinda reached over to braid it. Elphaba froze and only relaxed when Glinda explained: “So it won’t get in your eyes.”

She led her fingers glide through Elphaba’s hair. Any excuse to touch it she would take. It was so smooth and soft and so different from her own. “You have such beautiful hair.”

“As you keep insisting.”

“It keeps being true,” Glinda said as she finished the braid and planted a kiss behind Elphaba’s ear. “All done.”

Elphaba turned around to face Glinda. It was as if she could read her mind. “There’s no point in worrying. It’ll only distract you.”

“But what if -”

“No,” Elphaba cut her off and planted a kiss on her forehead. “No more worries, okay?” 

Glinda searched for eye contact, but Elphaba was blatantly avoiding her gaze and scrambled through a bag. Seeing Elphaba like this felt all wrong. They were suppose to be passed this. If only they hadn’t found out about that stupid wanted poster.

“It’s not wrong to worry, you know.” Glinda tried to reach out. “It means we care.”

“Ah! Here we go,” Elphaba fished a hat out of the bag. The black pointy hat Glinda had insisted on buying. She suddenly had the desire to set it on fire.

“Elphie, what are you doing?”

“They wanted a witch didn’t they? Wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”

“Take that off.” Glinda said sharply.

“It’s just a hat, my pretty,” said Elphaba and planted an absent kiss on Glinda’s cheek. “We better go. Are you coming?”

\--

Crope opened the door of the safe house and peered into the darkness. It was a cold autumn day and the first sun beams of the day tried to break through the heavy fog.

He felt something tugging at his hand and instantly knew it was Tibbett. Crope smiled at him. “You ready, darling?”

“Rallying up a crowd? It’s what we do best.”

Crope turned his attention back to outside. They had to wait for a signal before they could come out. “What’s taking so long?” he mumbled.

“Patience, my dear.”

“I am patience itself.”

“Your bouncing foot says otherwise.”

He hadn’t even noticed. Not that he was able to stop it from bouncing. “Whatever. You know I hate waiting.”

“Mhm.” Tibbett wrapped his arms around him and rested his head on his shoulder. His embrace helped Crope feel a little less restless. Together they watched and waited. Time was moving too slow and Crope grew bored. In the corner of his eye he catched Tibbett’s gaze. He looked very calm. Maybe a bit _too_ calm.

“Wait...” Crope studied his face. “You sly dog, you used one of your herbs didn’t you?”

Tibbett smiled cheekily. “I used some in my tea this morning. I thought you knew.”

He didn’t. Tibbett hadn’t offered any because those particular herbs usually made Crope feel loopy instead of relaxed. Which was fun on certain occasions, but certainly not on a day like today.

“Well, it makes sense. You’re terrible under pressure.”

“Thanks, love.” Tibbett nudged him playfully.

Crope smiled. “You’re very welcome, dearest.”

A faint whistle in the distance caught their attention. Crope jumped up excitedly. “That’s the signal!”

He took Tibbett’s hand and dragged him outside, and didn't even bother to wait on the rest of the Court members that were in the same safe house. They walked around the block and more members followed their footsteps. All marching together towards the demonstration in the inner city island. They crossed the bridge and the Palace of Justice slowly became visible through the fog. 

They claimed as much space as possible, but tried to look as nonthreatening as possible. One Arjiki brought a small drum and started playing an upbeat rhythm. Another Arjiki raised her voice to address the crowd, encourage them, even break the tension by making them laugh. Then, the chants started, and the drumbeat grew more steady. Crope and Tibbett joined in, sometimes starting new chants for the group to echo. It would’ve been fun too, if only the circumstances weren’t as dire as they were.

“Looks like we have a visitor,” Tibbett nudged him and tilted his head to the right. 

Crope followed his line of vision. Removed from the crowd stood a Guard observing the protest. They decided to ignore him and kept chanting from the top of their lungs. Every time they glanced in his direction, their unsettlement grew. 

\--

The church did not keep the cold weather out and Glinda was pacing along the altar to keep her body warm. Or so she told herself. She kept stealing glances at Elphaba who had nestled in a corner. They were in the same raid group, so Glinda could keep an eye on her. Their conversation in the tent unsettled her still. Chipping away at her. She couldn’t let Elphaba distance herself from everything that was going on, but she had no idea how to stop her from doing so.

Maybe this was how Elphaba could deal with what was about to happen. Justify the actions they might have to make. Glinda looked in her direction again and found Boq had struck up a conversation with Elphaba. She couldn’t hear what they were talking about but it appeared they were bickering over some unimportant detail. The sight relaxed Glinda a bit.

“Can I have your attention please?” Fiyero’s steady voice echoed through the church. 

The ten people scattered around the church gathered around him. 

“I’ve just gotten word that the demonstration in the inner city is in full progress. Let’s hope this distraction will leave us an easier access to the palace. If anything goes wrong _immediately_ return to this church. Some of us may be able to get sanctuary in other churches,” his eyes looked directly at Glinda, “but it’s better not to risk it. Q.P. _will_ give us sanctuary.”

Since the Quadling priest on their block had taken a vow of silence nobody knew his real name. They decided to call him Q.P. for short instead. He lit up every time someone called him that.

“Q.P’s offer is sweet and all, but what if Morrible decides to ignore the sanctuary law and persecute us anyway?” Elphaba raised.

“That’s the risk we all took when we signed up for this raid. We cannot under _any_ circumstances lead the Gale Force to the Court. Any further questions?”

The group stayed silent. They all knew what had to be done.

“Very well. Glinda, Elphaba, your group should go ahead. Boq and I will wait and try to sneak into the secret south entrance. If everything goes according to plan, we’ll meet again in the Throne Room.”

There was nothing much to be said and wishing the others good luck only felt like jinxing the mission. So they went outside, with their heads held up high and their feet shaking in their boots.

Glinda braced herself for the inevitable fallout with people she knew. Soldiers that were once in _her_ command. It was kind of ironic how her very first raid was also the one to go against the army she was once raised to lead.

The group marched towards the front gate. They had the most manpower, to push through the Palace as a brute force. The second raid party was just Boq and Fiyero so they could slip inside undetected.

Through the mist the first two guards came into their view, but the fog was thick enough to give them some cover. Glinda reached for the sword hanging on her back, but then reconsidered. That’s not what they had practiced. She looked at Elphaba instead. “Ready?”

Elphaba halted abruptly and gave a nod. Her eyes focussed on the looming gates of the Wizard’s Palace and her hands brought into position for the first spell, waiting for directions.

Glinda scanned the area and then whispered: “Left. Blue.” Their hands moved in sync, as they pronounced the words of the stunning spell. A dark blue aura swirled around them and they directed the energy to the left guard. He instantly dropped to the ground, with his spear clattering on the ground. The guard on the other side of the gate jumped up to see what was going on.

“Right. Blue,” Glinda directed and they casted the same spell to the other guard. He froze up and almost comically jolted face-first to the ground, stiff as a board. 

The men in their raid group look both impressed and horrified. They only had their muscles to rely on.

“No time to waste,” Elphaba said and motioned her hand to move along.

\--

The Guard that had looked from a distance had vanished. Nobody had kept an eye on him long enough to see where he went. Not to cause any panic, some of the more fragile Court members were instructed to walk back to any of the safehouses, one by one. Others were only more determined to stay.

Most citizens had caught wind of the protest and took different routes to avoid it. Ignorance was bliss after all, and a blissful life they led. The crowd had thinned out when the first Gale Force soldiers arrived. They marched over the bridges, with horses and barrels to barricade any ways to leave the island.

“Now what?” Crope whispered. 

Tibbett reached for his hand and squeezed it tight. “Crope. I don’t feel so good.” 

His face had gone pale and his eyes looked red. Crope looked around. “We’ll get you out of here, okay? They’re probably only trying to intimidate us.”

“Please remain calm, everyone,” a Bear named Maurits spoke up. “They cannot arrest us. We’ve broken no laws.”

Though they had. They had broken several laws by protesting against the Wizard. Animals could even be persecuted on sight by the Gale Force. Quadlings and Vinkans were treated no better. The Court members huddled together for strength.

Tibbett’s breathing went faster. He was a city boy raised in urban areas where there never was any real danger for a Gillikinese like him. Back when they had travelled in the Evian desserts Crope’s three moms had invited them along their weekly hunting expedition. Tibbett had fainted the moment he saw a dead animal carried around Crope’s shoulders. They laughed about it later, but Crope had learned that any form of harm caused Tibbett tremendous stress.

Crope took his face in both hands. “Look at me, Tibbs. Focus on me. See my eyes? What colour are they?”

Tibbett squinted his eyes. “Brown. With little mischievous twinkles in them.”

“Five points. Now, how long is my hair?”

“Short, but you do need a haircut, darling.”

 _Good_ , Crope thought, _he’s already using nicknames and a bit of humor._ “I thought you wanted me to grow it out like you did.”

“I still think you should, but I know you won’t.”

Crope kissed his forehead. “Maybe I will. Just for you.”

The first wave of raining arrows landed in front of their feet. A warning. People screamed and ran into different directions. Crope had to let go off Tibbett’s hand as they got driven apart from each other. A Quadling crashed into Crope and he stumbled back. Blood was dripping from his nose.

“Sorry!” she quickly apologized and ran off.

He held his hand under his nose and tried to see Tibbett through the blur of people. He blinked a few times, but his vision did not sharpen. People yelled at him to move. _No_ , he thought. _Not without Tibbett._ He scanned the place again, and in the distance he saw him being dragged along through the crowd. He would be safe there. He better get moving too then.

 _Which direction_? _Where was the nearest safe house again_? Crope rotated and suddenly realized he was standing on an almost empty square. A Guard spotted him and readied his bow. 

“Shit shit shit shit!” Crope cursed and ran away as fast as he could. 

Behind him a big Animal was moving in on him. Crope didn’t recognize him until they were side by side and the Bear slowed his speed. It was Maurits from the Court. He pointed with his snout to his back. “Hop on!”

It was too dangerous to stand still, so Crope jumped while running and hoped for the best. He landed uncomfortably, but had a good enough grip to pull himself up and hold on to Maurits’ neck.

Maurits picked up the pace and Crope had to squint his eyes to prevent from tearing up. They were almost off the innercity island, they just had to pass the bridge and - 

“Maurits! Watch out!” 

They were heading straight towards a blockade of high woodwork and sharp spears. In front, three Guards readied their swords. 

“Hold tight, human!”

“Fuck no!” Crope cried out, but strengthened his grip around Maurits anyway. 

They were going top speed. Maurits roared deafeningly and two Guards dropped their swords and cowered down. Maurits put his body off the ground and jumped. With his body he crashed through the barricade and landed on his paws. 

“HOLY SHIT!” Crope yelled, looking behind and seeing the massive hole in the blockade. “That was awesome!”

For a moment too long he looked behind the blockade and his heart stopped. On the other side of the bridge he saw a slender body with long black hair slumping in between two members of the Gale Force. The man was being carried into an alley. _Tibbett._

“TURN AROUND!”

“Are you fucking mental?!”

Crope didn’t need to think twice. He let go of Maurits’ neck and rolled off his body. He crashed down on the pavement and didn’t even feel the ache in his back. He scrambled to his feet and aimed for the bridge.

“ _TIBBETT_!” he screamed from the top of his lungs, hoping to gain his attention.

But the Guards heard him better, and so did Maurits. Teeth grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him away.

“FUCK OFF!” Crope screamed and sputtered, but Maurits was much stronger and dragged him towards the nearest shelter. It was an old shed, with a few other Animals - or maybe just animals - Crope couldn’t tell and didn’t care.

Maurits opened his jaw and Crope caught his body with his hands. Tears dropped into hay. And sadness turned into seething anger.

“How _fucking_ dare you?”

Maurits stayed calm. “I saved your life.”

“WHAT ABOUT TIBBETT’S LIFE!?” Crope sobbed. “IS THAT WORTH _NOTHING_ TO YOU?”

“I need you to calm down. This safe house is at the Gillikinese side.”

Crope lifted himself up and looked from the door back to Maurits and grinded his teeth. “I wasn’t staying.”

With a determined step he aimed for the door. Maurits swooped in and cut him off right before he could reach the handle.

“ _For Oz sake’s_! What’s your problem? I need to find Tibbett!” He sounded pathetic and he didn’t care. All he was able to see was Tibbett’s body being carried away over and over again. 

“No, you don’t. Sit down, you’re wounded.”

“You think I care?!”

“Well you should. You look awful.”

It was a slap in the face that finally brought his mind away from Tibbett and back into his own body. He felt the dried blood under his nose. Every bruise from his mindless attempt to run after Tibbett. All the fears he felt the last half hour seeped back into him, little by little, until it became too much to carry. His shoulders slumped.

Maurits seemed to pity him. “Listen, Crope. I get it. I’ve been in this war since I was a cub. I’ve lost many friends and family, and today we might have lost some again. That’s war. That’s why we’re fighting.”

“I’m already in your Court of Losers so save your stupid revolution talk. I know what this is about, but…” he unclenched his jaw and tears stung in his eyes. “He’s _Tibbett_.”

“And we _will_ try to find him,” Maurits reassured him. “Once we get the signal it’s safe again.”

 _He might be dead by then._

Apparently his facial expression spoke for itself. “Don’t let your mind go there. We simply don’t know. When I found you I was actually looking for my best buddy, a Fox. I have no idea where she is either.”

“But did you see her being carried away by Guards?” he retorted bitterly.

Maurits gave up and sighed. “I’ll let the owner know we arrived and get some medical supplies. Stay put or risk your life finding your friend. I don’t care. Just don’t drag me or any other Court members into your ridiculous search mission.”

Crope balled his fists, but he had no juice left to say anything else. Maurits walked towards the backdoor of the shed, leading into the barn owner’s house. Crope let himself fall to his knees, the tears had dried on his cheeks.

“This is stupid,” he mumbled. 

Maurits turned his head. “It is,” he said sincerely. “I’m sorry, kid.”

\--

Glinda dabbed the sweat off her forehead. They hadn’t even entered the Wizard’s Palace and had faced over thirty soldiers already. The garden was better guarded than they had expected. Now there were only a few Gale Force cronies in front of the main entrance left. The mist had given them enough cover to not alarm anyone inside the Palace. But time ticked on, and the weather was changing. It wouldn’t be long before the sun would break through.

“Elphie, you take the right side. I’ll take left. Squad, you open the door once we take down the guards.”

Wordlessly, they went to work. Glinda took the two guards on the left side with another stunning spell. She looked over to the right where Elphaba was charging up a confusion spell. It had a bright green tinge and was a lot easier to cast. At this point, Glinda definitely felt fatigued. Taking out people took a lot more energy than any practice could’ve prepared her for. 

The way Elphaba carried her body definitely revealed the toll it was taking on her, but it wasn’t only exhaustion that showed. It was subtle to notice, but she stiffened her movements in an attempt of gaining control. The spell was rushed, but it did the job.

The men in their raid moved ahead and broke down the main entrance through sheer force. They were instantly greeted by more guards and it turned into a big fistfight. Guard were yelling for back-up. Glinda and Elphaba tried to cast spells, but couldn’t get a clean shot where they wouldn’t also hit one of their own.

“Go! Get deeper inside!” one of the men shouted at them.

Glinda looked at confirmation from Elphaba, but she had already leaped into the direction of the fights and wormed herself through the heavy-built men. Glinda quickly followed and briefly touched Elphaba’s hand when she caught up.

There was no Gale Force in sight. They could still hear the men fighting from a distance. 

“Second hall right,” Glinda recalled from the map she studied endlessly.

Elphaba raised her hands back into attack position. “I’d say freeze spell first to give us some more time to see what we’re up against.”

Glinda eyed Elphaba’s strained muscles. “We haven’t practiced it a lot.”

“It’ll have to do.”

They moved closer to the wall and Glinda took a quick peek around the corner. She couldn’t see much, but there was at least one guard stationed. She laid one finger on her cheek to indicate the number of guards. With her right hand she first showed point north and then moved her hand somewhere within northeast to show where he was located. Elphaba nodded.

They counted down in their head and casted the spell together. The guard heard them. 

“BACK-UP!” he shouted before the spell hit him and he froze up.

“Fuck!” Elphaba cursed and ran around the corner. “Go! We gotta go!”

Glinda reached for her sword and followed her. They moved to the massive door at the end of the hall. It was laid in golden patterns and accented by emeralds.

“Are you kidding? The entire Court could eat a month from that kinda money,” Elphaba said angrily and had to use all her strength to open one side of the door. 

Glinda sprinted ahead of her and came face to face with a Guard. She wielded her sword and with a few swings managed to break off the top of his spear. The man looked shocked and Glinda used it to her advantage and casted a quick stunning spell.

“Company coming!” Elphaba shouted.

Glinda looked behind and saw a group of Guards running in their direction. The Guard’s cry for help had worked. 

“Follow me!”

They ran up a few stairs, but when they turned the corner more Guards were waiting for them. Glinda cursed under her breath. Elphaba turned around so they were standing back to back. The freeze spell had a much wider range than the stunning spell, but Glinda wasn’t sure they could manage to cast it well enough.

“Purple,” Glinda said anyway. 

They conjured up the freeze spell in harmony. Around them a purple daze was forming, making some of the guards hesitate in approaching further. Glinda felt all her energy ebb away into the spell. She directed the energy at the group in front of her.

The Guards froze up and Glinda breathed out relieved. Something moved. Two Guards had escaped the spell. From the noise at Elphaba’s side, she was facing a similar problem. 

She grabbed her sword, but it was too late. One Guard disarmed her as the other grabbed her hands and twisted them on her back. The man kicked her at her feet so she fell down on the cold floor. A knee was pushed in her back and a hand pressed her head to the ground, facing away from Elphaba. The soldier put his lips uncomfortable close to Glinda’s ear and she pressed her eyes shut and willed him away. “This is what you get for betraying your country. Have fun in Southstairs, sweetheart.”

She felt his repulsive breathe on her skin and tears gathered in her eyes. Next to her, Elphaba was scrambling to get out of the Guard’s grip and screamed and cursed and kicked until a second Guard had to help pin her down.

The clicking of heels echoed on the marble floor. Glinda’s stomach dropped; she knew it was over now. A shiver ran down her spine when she recognized Morrible’s voice. “Look what we have here. Up with them. Up up!”

The Guard pulled Glinda up by her scarf, and grabbed a good chunk of her hair with it. She let out a cry of pain and rose quickly to her feet to stop the guard from pulling. Glinda glanced at Elphaba but the Guard grabbed her jaw and forced her to look Morrible in the eye.

Morrible said nothing. She folded her hands behind her back and her mouth was a thin line. For a good moment she examined the haul. Then, the verdict: “Take the wicked witch to the stakes!”

“NO!” Glinda cried out in a sob. 

She tried to wrestle herself out of the strong grip but it would not work. The two guards pulled Elphaba away. Morrible cut them off. “Not her!”

The guards halted confusedly. Glinda’s throat had dried out. _No_. The room stopped moving. Morrible’s eyes shot to hers. “ _Captain_ Glinda.”


	14. Sanctuary!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning(s):** depictions of violence, discussions of sexual stuff (T-rated as always), and some mental illness issues.

Boq ran as fast as his tiny legs could carry him. He was out of breath and tried to push back the twists in his stomach and the taste of vomit in his mouth. His limbs were heavy but they kept on moving.

When the church came in sight he regained some strength and pushed through. He stumbled over the stairs and knocked loudly on the wood. “Q.P! Open up it’s Boq!”

The bolts on the door shifted immediately and the priest opened it ajar. Boq wrung himself to the other side of the stone walls while Q.P. quietly closed the gate again and locked it. Boq threw himself onto the ground and lay there for a few minutes, catching his breath.

Once he was able to sit up, Q.P. handed him a wet cloth to clean up the sweat. Boq took it gratefully, but his mind was somewhere else. He swallowed, hard. “They got Fiyero.”

He looked down and bit on the side of his thumb but it did nothing to stop the tears. Fiyero saw them coming around the corner and the Gale Force saw him in return. So Fiyero pushed Boq away and told him to run. Get away while he could. Boq had frozen on the spot. So Fiyero kicked and pushed him away until his feet caught the message and carried him away.

He should’ve stayed there. Whatever Fiyero was facing he shouldn’t face it alone. Boq sucked in a breath and screamed a wail so loud he hoped it would destroy his own lungs. His face turned pulsing red, and then purple. He rammed his fists into the back of the wall and felt his skin scratch off on the rough stone surface.

He was in the motion of doing it again, when a calming hand was placed on his shoulder and he snapped out of it. He looked at the priest, who shook his head gently and Boq knew what he was trying to say: _It’s not your fault._

“But it is,” Boq tasted his tears. “How could I - Who am I to..?”

He registered the empty church for the first time and he stopped and wiped away his tears. He was afraid of the answer but knew he had to ask: “H-Has the other raid group not returned yet?”

The priest shook his head remorsefully.

“Do you know where they are? What has happened?” Boq looked at Q.P. and for once he must’ve been grateful he took a vow of silence. “Father, I _beg_ you! I need to know what happened to the other raid party!”

\--

The iron chains itched around Elphaba’s wrists. She was tied to a pole and Morrible had made sure Elphaba had the best view of Glinda’s execution. The pyre was being made in front of the Palace of Justice. Nothing about the square indicated that a demonstration had happened mere hours ago. 

News that a pyre was being set up in front of the Palace spread quickly around the entire city: “At sunset a witch is going to burn! A witch! A witch!” little boys and girls screamed excitingly while running around. Few witch burnings took place these days. Back when magic was first banned, there would be several burnings a day. Sometimes two at a time, for efficiency’s sake. Ever since then most witches were smart enough to hide. The last execution had been a year or two ago. 

Elphaba grinded her teeth. If only she had trained more. If only she could’ve helped Glinda better during the raid. They had vastly underestimated the amount of security in the Wizard’s Palace. She should’ve been able to protect Glinda. Instead she proved to be as worthless as everyone always said she was.

The crowd grew larger with the hour. By sunset the entire square was filled. People had brought their own torches and rotten fruit. Mothers had brought little treats like walnuts and cheese and even wine. With such a celebration as today, dinner had to wait. Their excitement made Elphaba sick.

“You’re next to burn in hellfire, green demon!” a Gillikinese yelled at her.

Elphaba’s eyes grew dark and let her head hang, her hair fell in front of her face. Her mouth curled into wicked grin and she let out a soft, maniacal cackle. “Oh you poor soul. I don’t _burn_ in fire.” 

The Gillikinese slowly backed away. Nobody dared to even hold eye contact with her for longer than a clock tick. Afraid of the wrath of the wicked witch of the west. Those who stared for a beat too long let out a yelp when Elphaba flashed her sharp teeth.

“Citizens of Oz!” Madame Morrible entered the stage and the crowd cheered. “Today we celebrate the burning of another witch!”

Morrible stepped to the side as two guards let up Glinda to the stage. The audience let out a collective gasp when they saw the familiar golden curls.

“Yes! Even those of pure blood can be _poisoned_ by hatred and evil,” Morrible’s voice carried above the audience. 

Glinda was chained to a pole as the beat of a drum whipped up the audience. Her body slumped and she had her eyes closed; she had surrendered to her verdict. A Guard lit the first twigs around her feet and the crowd went wild.

“Let this be reminder that even those close to you are capable of betrayal. But only those of good heart, shall be rewarded...”

Elphaba felt her blood turn cold. The only one here of good heart _was_ Glinda. And now all that was good in her life was going to die in front of her eyes. 

“... May you burn in this life and the next.”

_Like hell she will._

Elphaba guided her energy to her arms, and her body trembled. The metal around her wrists slowly loosened. The chain started to rattle as she bent it at her will. With a _clunk_ it fell to the ground and she was free. 

The Guard closest to her noticed too late what was happening. Elphaba pushed her hand forward and with accelerating speed the Guard got shoved backwards into the crowd and lost his balance. 

Elphaba took a leap off the platform and launched herself into the crowd. Disregarding all people surrounding her and their panicked expressions and eyes full of hatred. Nobody could touch her and a path forced itself open to the main stage. Elphaba climbed onto it with ease. In the corner of her eyes she saw Madame Morrible point frantically at her and yell inaudible orders. It didn’t matter. Only Glinda mattered.

The smoke filled her lungs, but Elphaba pushed through. The world around her was nothing but a haze that slowed with every movement. There was only Glinda, unconscious by the heavy air, and the fire that was licking at her heels and skirt.

A burnt branch snapped under Elphaba’s foot. She stepped into the pyre, but didn’t feel the heat. With one hand she loosened the chains and with the other she caught Glinda. She scooped up her body and Glinda’s head fell to her shoulder. Elphaba could feel her slow heartbeat and hear her even slower breathing. They had to get out of here.

The world slowly got back into focus. The Gale Force was running towards her, heavily armed. The crowd was trying to get on stage and grabbing for her feet. Elphaba turned her eyes helplessly to the sky. The only solution. It was ludicrous. And it was the only way out.

She sank through her knees and felt the wind tugging at her. Suddenly it felt possible. Elphaba breathed out and took the leap. Her body might as well been weightless. She hoovered in the air, above the crowd. For a moment they forgot she was the wicked witch and were supposed to despise her and only watched in awe. 

It wouldn’t last forever. Elphaba knew she could never stay afloat long enough to reach the city walls. There might be one place though… Her eyes lay rest on the big church in front of her. After all, Glinda had said...

There was little time left. She walked through the air till she reached the first rooftop. From there she bounced from rooftop to rooftop, with jumps so high and so long it felt like flying. The cool air brushing through her hair.

On the last rooftop she stopped. The tall towers of Notre Dame loomed in front of her. Glinda stirred.

“Hold out,” Elphaba whispered to her. “We’re almost there.”

She made the big jump towards the church and immediately knew she had miscalculated. The buttress was smaller than anticipated. To avoid total disaster she crashed her back into the church and one feet landed on the stone. Her other feet was hanging dangerously in the air. Her heart was beating in her throat. Elphaba quickly readjusted her body until she was standing safely on the buttress and looked for the next safe landing spot. 

It took another three jumps before she was at the top of the tower. She looked at Glinda, still passed out, but had gained back a bit of colour in her cheeks. The crowd was still at large in front of the palace, although some had tried to follow her step. Nobody had come close.

Elphaba raised her voice and knew the wind would carry the message for her. “I hereby claim sanctuary for Glinda of the Arduennas!”

The crowd responded. She didn’t care in what way. All that mattered was that the message was received. Elphaba turned away and ran down the wooden stairs into her old sanctuary. Carefully, she laid Glinda on her bed and planted a kiss in her hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back.” 

Elphaba ran to the other side of the room and shoved her comfortable armchair in front of the door. For good measure she put piles of books there too. She heard Frex’s familiar pace run up the tower.

He tried to unlock the door, but it would not budge. With his fist he knocked loudly on the door. “Fabala! Open up at _once_!”

“Over my dead body!” she shouted back. “I claimed sanctuary!”

“This is _my_ church -”

“And _we_ are refugees from the law. We have the right to be here!”

Frex knocked on the door again. “Stop playing games, Fabala!”

“We’ll leave. I promise. Just…” she looked over at Glinda, her body was shivering. “Once Glinda is fit again to travel. I promise. You’ll never see me again.”

Her voice had grown meek. There was a long stretch of silence.

Frexspar sighed. “I can trust your word?”

“You can, Father.”

“Very well,” Frex gave in. “But this is the last favor I do for you.”

He turned around and left. Elphaba placed the few books that had fallen back in front of the door and hastened to Glinda. She put the blanket over her shivering body and held her hand.

“You can pull through this, Glinda. I know you can,” Elphaba whispered. “You’re so strong and brave. Braver than I ever will be.”

She laid a hand on Glinda’s head. She was definitely feverish. Elphaba tucked her more into the blanket and hummed a melody under her breath. She couldn’t believe she remembered it still. It was an old unionist hymn Frex had taught her when she was little. It had a calming effect on Glinda.

As Elphaba repeated the melody over and over again the words slowly came back to her and before she knew it she was singing them. Her voice sounded harsher, but she could still hit the notes well. She watched Glinda’s face relax. Time passed on and as Elphaba tired out she continued humming the melody in her throat, until her eyes shut too.

\--

When Elphaba woke up her whole body was stiff. She had fallen asleep with her head on the mattress and her knees crossed on the floor. Glinda was still sleeping peacefully and Elphaba thought it better not to disturb her.

As quietly as possible she tiptoed around the room. It was dark outside but it wouldn’t be much longer before the sun would rise. Her stomach made a loud growl and it was surprising Glinda didn’t wake up by it. The last time they had eaten was back in the Court and now might be the only chance Elphaba would get to plunder some food.

Swiftly and without making any sound she moved the chair and slided the books to the side. With only a small creak the door opened, but Elphaba didn’t have to step further than that. Outside, some food had been placed. Overnight it had gone cold and the bread stale, but it was still edible. Had Frex gone up last night to give them food? Had she slept through that?

Without questioning it too much, she brought the food back inside and placed the chair back in front of the door. She lit the fireplace and reheated the soup. The smell soon filled the room and before Elphaba had to wake up Glinda, she was already standing next to her.

“Good morning, how are you feeling?” Elphaba asked as she stirred the soup.

Glinda tried to reply but let out an awful cough. Elphaba dropped the ladle and quickly put an arm around Glinda’s waist and help her guide down to a chair.

“I’m not wounded,” Glinda waved her off. Her voice sounded rough and deeper than usual. “Just -” she bursted into another coughing fit. “Dry throat.”

“Not very surprising since you inhaled smoke long enough you passed out,” Elphaba said and put a hand on Glinda’s forehead. “At least your fever has gone down. Sleep has done you well it seems.”

She turned back to the fireplace and poured soup in two bowls. Glinda took it gratefully. Elphaba passed the bread and they ate in silence.

“You sang lovely last night.”

Elphaba choked on her soup. “You eh - heard that?”

“Sort of,” Glinda smiled, shyly. “I heard someone singing, in my dreams, I mean. It came from a church and when I got inside, it was you standing near the altar.”

“That’s… uncanny.”

Glinda frowned. “Why?”

Elphaba put her bowl down and wrung her hands. “Because when I was young I used to sing during mass.”

“You must’ve sounded beautifully.”

Elphaba pulled a face. “It was just another method to get people in the church. If a green demon can be gifted God’s instrument, there must be hope for lesser sinners. That sort of thing.”

“Oh.”

Neither of them knew how to continue the conversation so Elphaba got up and collected the dishes. Glinda went outside for some fresh air, but not before they had a squabble about whether that was a good idea or not.

After Elphaba cleaned the dishes she picked the book she remembered reading last and settled down. It felt strange reading where she had left off. In the bell tower that had always been her home, until a few months ago. Everything was still the same. The place was exactly how she had left it, but somehow it didn’t feel like hers anymore. 

“Do you do anything else but reading?”

Elphaba didn’t look away from the page. “I do. You just don’t pay attention.”

“Of course I pay attention, and all I see is a wasted life.”

“If you could shut up? I’m trying to read.”

“Elphie?” Glinda was standing on the top stair. “Were you talking to me?”

“No, I was talking to…” she didn’t have an answer. “Did the outside world grace you with health and good fortune?”

“No need to be so smug about it.” But she could hear the smile in her voice.

Glinda sat down on the chair opposite of her and swung her feet over the armrest. Anyone else would look lazy, but Glinda looked graceful and effortlessly so. For a good while she studied Elphaba. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

“Did you know there are Gale Force patrolling?”

Elphaba looked up. “Around Notre Dame?”

“Around everywhere. The whole City is crawling with them.”

Elphaba hummed and turned her attention back to her book. “We’ll have to wait a few days until surveillance thins out.”

“What about the Court? Have you heard from them at all?”

“I have no idea what happened. Not to the demonstration or Fiyero or Boq. But given you almost got executed I don’t think their raid party booked much success either.”

Glinda didn’t reply. Maybe she had said that too flatly. 

Glinda shuffled awkwardly in her chair to sit normally again and clasped her hands together and cleared her throat. “Most bizarre thing happened yesterday. We got captured during a raid, I get executed prompto. Then one moment I’m smothering in burning fire while a crowd cheers on my death, and the next thing I know I’m in Notre Dame. Safe and sound.”

Glinda rubbed her forehead and continued awkwardly. “I’m guessing you saved me - us both - but I can’t figure out how. And apparently you’re not big on heroism because you haven’t said a word about it.”

“Oh.” Elphaba felt a sting of guilt and put away the book gingerly. “I guess I wasn’t sure you wanted to relive the experience. Or how to bring it up.”

Glinda smiled at her. “I’m bringing it up now, aren’t I?”

“Honestly, I have no idea how I did what I did. Even if I told you the truth you might think I’m lying.”

“Try me.”

So Elphaba told her of their escape in vivid detail. How she had broken free from the chains and how they had flied through the sky. Glinda hadn’t much trouble believing it, but rather seemed disappointed she had missed out on their walk through the sky.

The rest of the day flew by. They decided it was best to rest today and see if tomorrow there were less patrols. Frex brought them supper, but they wouldn’t open the door until he had left. They went to bed early, but once settled down, neither of them felt sleepy. 

Glinda turned around so they were lying face to face, their noses almost touching. She looked deep into her eyes, searching for something. Elphaba didn’t know what for.

“Please don’t shut me out.” Glinda said it in a breath, and Elphaba almost thought she had imagined it. 

“Why would I do that?”

Glinda closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m worried, Elphaba. I see you shut yourself off from everything that’s happening and I know the tides are turned against us but -” she looked at her desperately. “I cannot lose you. Not now.”

Elphaba knew exactly what she meant. Thinking about a life without Glinda… How she was tied up above a pyre only a sunrise ago. It was unbearable to imagine what would have happened.

She laid her hand on Glinda’s cheek and pressed their heads together. Of all the things she could say to her, she settled for the truth. “I’m terrified too.”

Glinda kissed her. First soft, then slow. She let her fingers wander over Elphaba’s hair and trailed down to her neck. With every touch the kisses deepened. It overwhelmed Elphaba’s senses and yet she could not help but get lost in it. The kisses slowly moved to the corner of Elphaba’s mouth, her jaw, her neck. All the while Glinda’s hands tugged at her blouse and loosened the top few buttons. It threw her off, since Glinda had never done so before and they were already dressed in their nightwear.

“Glinda - wait.” Elphaba grabbed her wrists gently to stop her from moving further and urged her to look in her eyes. “Don’t do this for me. Really. I don’t want to if you don’t. You said you don’t care for sex and if I ever made you feel like I expected it eventually I should apologize.”

Glinda rested her hand on Elphaba’s heart. “You never made me feel that way, I promise. And you’re right, I don’t care much for it. But I care for _you_.”

Glinda got even closer. Elphaba didn’t realize that was even possible. Their bodies were pressed together and she could feel every breath Glinda took. A good thing too, because without her she probably would have forgotten how.

“And right now all that keeps me from falling apart is being close to you.” 

Elphaba hung to every syllable. Those words had barely been a whisper, they were only meant for her.

A passion burnt in Glinda’s eyes that Elphaba could only embrace. So she let her be loved and loved her in return. For there were no more certainties left in this petrifying world, except the certainty of being together right here, in this moment.

\--

Elphaba’s head felt heavy when she woke up. Glinda was snuggled up to her, but something was off. She felt Glinda’s skin pressed to her own and Elphaba realized they had fallen asleep naked. Overwhelmed by the physical contact, Elphaba stepped out of bed and quickly got dressed. 

Almost like a habit she moved the stuff away from the door and checked if some food was delivered. There was nothing there yet. Annoyed, she pushed the chair back in front of the door and looked over to the bed. Glinda was still sleeping soundly.

Not to accidentally wake her up, Elphaba went up the rooftop. She braced herself for the cold and peered over the city. It was basking in a beautiful rising sun. The streets in the innercity were still patrolled and the gates heavily guarded.

“There has to be a way out,” Elphaba muttered.

“Darling, you’re getting a cold!” A familiar voice scolded her.

“Nanny, I’m fine.”

Elphaba realized what she had said and turned around. Nobody was on the roof but her. The wind cried in her ears and her body shivered. Elphaba pulled her shirt closer to her body and rested her arms back on the stone ledge. 

If she could just figure out a way to leave - 

Elphaba looked at her right. The only thing there was a stone gargoyle. She could’ve sworn it had moved just now. Her head started to hurt and she closed her eyes.

“You do look rather ill, Nanny can tell.”

She snapped her eyes open and the gargoyle had turned its head, staring at her. “Even for a green _monster_ like you.”

“Shut up!” she yelled at the gargoyle and stormed inside. 

The door slammed into its lock loudly enough to startle Glinda awake.

“Elphie..?”

 _Shit._

“It’s fine. I’m sorry the wind - it’s fine, Glinda.” Elphaba said calmingly and she settled back into bed. She wrapped the blanket tighter around Glinda’s shoulders. “Go back to sleep now. We’re safe here.”


	15. And He Shall Smite The Wicked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning(s):** (internalized) homophobia, emotional and physical abuse, mentions of death, and spiraling mental illness
> 
> That’s a lot of warnings I know, but I’d rather let you decide whether to read the chapter or not then surprise you and sent you down some emotional mental journey you do not need right now. This story is a rough ride, so take care of yourself. <3

An hour before morning mass there was still no food delivered. Irritable, Elphaba decided she’d dare a visit downstairs to get it herself. If this was Frex’s way of saying he wanted her gone it was a lousy attempt. 

She passed the frightened alter boys and slipped into the common room. A soup was simmering in the fireplace. Frex was facing away from her, cutting the bread.

“Excuse me, you can’t be here,” one of the priests told Elphaba warily.

Frexspar looked around and his face changed. “It’s alright gentlemen. I’d like to speak alone to Fabala for a moment.” 

The priests obeyed his wish and left the room. Elphaba hadn’t come any closer, seeing Frex for the first time in months was unusual. She had forgotten how much her instincts told her to keep some distance whenever he was near.

Frex was the first to speak. “Why have you come here?”

“There was no food at the door.”

“Ah, so my deliveries _have_ been appreciated. A little gratification would have gone a long way you know.”

Elphaba scoffed. 

“I’m taking a huge risk giving you sanctuary, Fabala.”

“I know. I’m not stupid,” Elphaba groaned and walked towards the fireplace. “I came here for food, not a lecture.” 

She poured soup in two bowls, all the while Frex watched her every movement excruciatingly. “The Captain… is she fit for travel yet?”

“ _Ex_ -Captain,” Elphaba corrected him. “She has a name, y’know.”

“I’d rather not say that cursed name in His holy presence.”

Elphaba paused and unclenched her jaw. She put the bowls down and chose her words carefully. “There is nothing wrong with her. You yourself said -”

“That the Unnamed God has mercy on those who seek forgiveness,” Frex finished her sentence. “But can you stand here before me, and speak in true honesty that she has parted with her sins?”

Elphaba kept silent.

“That’s what I thought,” Frexspar said, and brushed past her.

“You fucking hypocrite,” she mumbled under her breath.

The footsteps stopped and Frexspar turned around. “Watch yourself, Fabala. You are under His roof now. Every word you speak, every action you take will be seen by the Unnamed God.”

“Good.” Elphaba felt her anger boiling inside and looked Frex right in the eyes. “I hope the Unnamed God enjoyed the sex Glinda and I had under His precious roof. I sure did.”

Frex slapped her. Her cheek burned from the impact. “Don’t _ever_ take His name in your filthy mouth again.”

“You just can’t handle the fact you fucked another man,” Elphaba spit out. “You can’t stand that in the eyes of your beloved Unnamed God you are tainted.”

“I have redeemed myself.” He stated it like a fact he was not entirely convinced of himself. “I was seduced, I wasn’t in control. I am now.”

Elphaba narrowed her eyes. “Then what about Turtle Heart? Was he seduced too?”

“No. He quit university after he realized what he had done to me. He could not face his sins in the watchful eye of the Unnamed God.”

“Or maybe he couldn’t be with a lover who was bound to self-destruct over his beliefs.”

Frex was seething. Before he could reply, there was a knock on the door and a young voice spoke. “Deacon Frexspar?”

His eyes did not leave hers. “One moment, please.”

“But, sir, uhm,” the nervous alter boy’s voice sounded muffled through the massive wooden door. “The preparations for mass..? Priest Ivy was just wondering -”

“I won’t be long.”

“R-right, deacon Frex. I’ll tell him that,” and the alter boy made his way back.

Frex grimaced. “Do not mistake my generosity for indulgence, Fabala. I am nothing like you or the filth you associate yourself with.”

“Then I must question your actions, for they contradict your words. It’s not like you -”

 _Care_ for me? Accept me for who I am? What exactly did she want him to say? And why was it suddenly so important to hear him say it?

Frex cleared his throat awkwardly. “He is the reason I took you in.”

Elphaba frowned. “Who, Turtle Heart?” The words hadn’t fully hit her until Frexspar confirmed it by a disgusted scowl. “But why? Am I…?”

She held her breath and registered how pathetic he looked. Old and pale. Every inch of authority he once possessed vanished.

“You’re not his offspring,” he finally said. “If that’s what you’re wondering. Your mother confirmed that much.”

“M-my,” Elphaba’s head spun and she reached behind for the counter to steady herself. Somehow she always thought she had been left on the streets somewhere. She was a loose entity. She realized it was impossible, but it made more sense that she just _existed_ one day. Nobody could’ve carried something like _her_ in a womb for nine months. Elphaba took a shaking breath. “You s-spoke to my mother?”

“Your mother was nothing but a whore,” Frex said coldly. 

Her whole body was shaking uncontrollably. “But you saw her,” Elphaba bit back, a yearning creeped inside her for something she never had. “You _spoke_ to her.”

“Barely,” Frexspar huffed annoyed.“Why would you care anyway? She abandoned you.”

His words were a whisper slithering between the bombastic new information she was trying to process. She hadn’t even registered he had stepped closer.

“I am the one who raised you. _You_!” Frex gnarled with disgust. “A green monster born with razor sharp teeth and handed over to me by nothing but a drug-addicted whore in the dead of night. All these years I took care of you. And where’s _my_ gratitude?”

Elphaba looked up at once. “I should be grateful to _you_?”

“Not from you!” Frexspar dismissed her entirely. He turned away from her and raised his hands to the sky. “I took you in in the name of the Unnamed God! Can’t you see, Fabala? You were supposed to be my _redemption_! You were brought here so I could prove that I have turned away from my sinful past. That I am faithful to the Unnamed God!”

She swallowed his words. “So that’s why you took me in... I never understood why you did it.”

He grabbed her wrists and dug in his nails. “Why do you insist upon tormenting me, hm? Is this how you want to punish me? You throw my youthful mistakes back into my face as if you cannot wait to drag me into hell. I won’t have it. Not anymore. Just know that what you and this Glinda are doing is absolute poison and it will kill you slowly over time.”

He let go off her, but the imprint of his fingernails in her flesh did not leave. Her throat had clenched up and she feared looking at Frex. With her head down, Elphaba grabbed the bowls of soup that had gone cold and left the room. 

She must’ve found her way back to the bell tower because suddenly she heard Glinda’s voice. “Oh, thank goodness you’re back! The door was open and I was worried something might have happened.”

Elphaba stepped away from her and put the bowls on the table, soup spilling over the edges and her shaking hands. She sunk down to the floor all at once and Glinda rushed towards her. “Elphie, what’s wrong?”

Elphaba stared straight ahead and she felt arms wrapping around her. She knew Glinda was calling her name, asking what happened, but it was as if she had forgotten how to speak. She couldn’t handle it anymore. The world Elphaba once lived in felt like a life from another dimension; unreachable through the fog in the empty dark space she now inhabited. 

Everything needed to go quiet. Everything needed to fade away.

\--

Crope was sick of waiting. A full day had gone by and no word about Tibbett. He hated Maurits for dragging him to the safe house and he hated himself for staying put. He thought himself to be, well, _more_. More capable, more adventurous, more devoted to Tibbett. 

That really bugged him the most: the thought that he didn’t love Tibbett enough. He ought to be out there looking for him, no matter the consequences. 

Another group of Gale Force marched through the streets and Crope shoved the curtains back. He really hoped he hadn’t been spotted. It was early and everyone in the room was still asleep. After Maurits and Crope had arrived a few other Court members had sought shelter. Two Arjiki women and a man who was either Glikkus or Munchkin - Crope couldn’t tell and he didn’t feel like asking. There were also a couple Animals but they spent the night in the shed. He still felt the bruises from that day, but he knew he could be off far worse.

Crope got up and pulled on his jacket and strapped on his boots. Carefully, he pushed aside the double wall that hid the secret bedroom and tiptoed down the stairs. 

He hadn’t actually gotten to the part of deciding how to go outside. Going through the shed was possibly best, but then again he had to walk past Maurits and he knew he was not even a match to a sleeping Bear. Another possibility was through the front door, but that seemed even stupider. Why did he never think these things through?

The staircase creaked and Crope clasped a hand before his mouth to repress a shriek. The hostess, an old Gillikinese lady called Martha, had a wooden bat in her hand and was wearing fluffy bed slippers. At the sight of Crope, she visibly relaxed and put down the bat. 

“Lurline boy, do you know what time it is?” she hissed at him as she hobbled down the stairs.

“Well, yeah, but I -” he couldn’t come up with a decent lie.

Martha squinted her eyes, possibly because she hadn’t had her glasses on, and said: “You must be starving. Come.”

She took him by the arm and led him to the kitchen. “I don’t have much food left, I’m afraid. I was going to get some groceries, but no shops are open at this hour. You have a strange appetite.”

Martha gestured for Crope to move along while she looked in one of the many cupboards.

“Oh, I’m not that hungry.”

She stopped mid-motion. “Did I ask for your opinion, boy? Sit. Sit down. Auntie Martha always knows what people need. Now sit, will you?”

Crope sat down in the nearest armchair, while Martha was rummaging around the kitchen. He couldn’t see what she was doing but didn’t interject again. 

“It’s too early to light up the fireplace, I’m afraid,” Martha said as she shuffled towards the seating area. “Wouldn’t want to raise any suspicion, hm?”

She put a plate in front of him - a sliced apple, some grapes and a tiny bread with cheese - and settled down in the opposite chair. Even though Crope didn’t feel hungry, he couldn’t reject such a plate of fresh ingredients. Silently, he nibbled at the food while Martha waited patiently for him to finish. She didn’t spoke until he finished every last crumb.

“You realize how stupid you are, right?”

Crope looked at her bewildered. “E-excuse me?”

“You didn’t even bother to change out of your nightwear. Do you honestly think you could outsmart those Gale Force fellows?”

He looked down at his shirt, embarrassed. 

“By Ozma, boy! Use your head! You go outside, they will shoot you on sight!”

“I’m not looking for a fight, I’m not _that_ stupid.”

“No, but you’re a brown kid. Either Ugabu or Ev, maybe even Fliaan I have no clue what those people look like. Point being, you’re not from here. And those men outside won’t hesitate to hurt anything that doesn’t look exactly like them.”

Crope grinded his teeth. “I cannot sit here, waiting. Every moment I’m not with him…” he rubbed the sting out of his eyes. “I cannot do it, okay? I cannot be without Tibbett.”

“Ah,” Martha said. “Maurits told me about that. He said you might try to make a run for it.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes. 

“I can tell this Tibbett means much to you, I…” she halted. “I do not mean to presume, but I have a nephew who I believe is like you. That is, am I correct to assume you and this boy are lovers?”

Crope nodded slowly.

“I see.” Martha clasped her hands against the chair. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You cannot go outside unnoticed, but I can. On my daily round of shopping I will try to gather as much information about Tibbett as I can. Sounds good?”

“He…” Crope cleared his throat. “He might not be alive anymore.”

Martha sobered up at those words. “All the more reason to try and find out.”

\--

Frex’s office smelled of stiffening perfume. Opposite of his desk sat a pompous woman, entirely intoxicated by her own power. A cunning smile on her face as she plopped down a sack of silver. As if he needed any more convincing of her offer.

Morrible raised her eyebrow. “So, deacon Frexspar. What will it be?”

He folded his hands together, as if his subconscious was already begging the Unnamed God for forgiveness. For he knew he was about to betray one of the church’s most treasured rules.

\--

Hours had passed and Glinda had tried everything to reach out to Elphaba, but she hadn’t moved an inch from her spot on the floor. Glinda had feared for weeks Elphaba was turning back into her shell, but not quite like this. She had heard glimpses of Elphaba talk to herself and see her tune out the world to hear her own thoughts clearer. But never had she expected to see her fully paralyzed.

Glinda could no longer look at it. She stood up and headed towards the part of the room where Elphaba was no longer in her vision, disappeared behind the chair. Having nothing else to do, Glinda made the bed.

Last night’s desperate attempt to get closer to Elphaba seemed silly in retrospect. Whatever Elphaba was fighting against it wasn’t going to get fixed by simply loving her. Glinda could try to help, soften the load, but in the end it was Elphaba who had to face her own demons. 

A cold shudder ran over Glinda’s shoulders. Oz, it was freezing in the tower. She took the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her. She took a few branches near the fireplace and placed them on the fire to make it bigger.

Glinda looked over her shoulder. Elphaba had gone incredibly pale and her teeth were chattering. 

“Here,” Glinda said and wrapped the blanket around her and tucked Elphaba in like a caccoon. “You need it far more than I do.”

No response, not even a slight change in expression.

Glinda sighed. “Take all the time you need, honey. But just know… that Frex is lying. He’s a liar. And he’s _wrong_.”

This time, Elphaba did move her head, a slight shake to signal a very determined ‘no’.

“He’s making you miserable!” Glinda stopped before her voice would carry too much. “You don’t deserve whatever he says you do, Elphie. I know you and you’re a _good_ person.”

Elphaba worked her jaw. “Leave.”

Glinda misinterpreted the message and nodded in relief. “Yes, we should leave this tower. I’ll find the safest route for us. You don’t have to worry about a thing, okay?”

Elphaba gripped Glinda’s shoulder harshly with one arm. Her eyes were pitch black, void from any emotion. “Leave. Me. Alone.”

Glinda recoiled until she crashed into a wall. Her whole body was trembling and she teared up in shock and confusion. The sting of rejection felt too real, especially because Elphaba was staring ahead into nothingness. Glinda might as well be completely invisible to her.

So this is it, Glinda thought. This was as far as she could go. There was nothing she could do now. The Elphaba she knew was unreachable, buried deep inside, safely locked away behind her walls.

\--

Crope had been pacing up and down the secret bedroom so many times the others had given up on telling him to stop. A while back he had heard Martha return, but she had remained in the shed ever since.

When he did finally hear footsteps walk up the stairs he was ready to burst into flames. Whatever he was going to hear; good news, bad news, no news at all, it was all that he was going to hear and he could do nothing about it.

Martha entered the room and before Crope could walk up to her, she gestured for him to sit down and wait his turn.

“I’m afraid I have some rather devastating news, my friends. While you were all fleeing for your lives some soldiers tracked a Court member down to one of the safe houses. Unfortunately, this particular safe house was connected to the underground network.”

The four of them looked in horror. 

“So far, we’re not sure if the Gale Force has made sense of the maze of tunnels, but it’s safe to say the Court of Miracles can no longer co-operate as a sanctuary. It also means your temporary visit won’t be as temporary as we had hoped. I’ve already informed all the Animals in the barn. I know it’s not much, but this house is not connected to the underground network. So you might be in a Gillikinese district, you actually lucked out this time.”

One of the Arjiki women started sobbing and the other tried to comfort her. The Glikkus-Munchkin man had closed his eyes and folded his hands and muttered his prayers. Martha walked over to Crope’s bed and sat down next to him. She spoke in a hushed tone. “I’ve heard a few things about your boy, but I’m not sure you want to hear it.”

“Everything,” Crope clutched at his bedsheets. “Tell me everything.”

She sighed. “From what I’ve heard Tibbett got picked out by some Gale scum. Thought he could give them information. Something to do with his father?”

“Oh god,” Crope felt sick. “Yes, h-his father is a palace advisor. They-they-they must’ve known Tibbett passed on information to the Court.”

Martha cupped her hand over his. “Someone of the Court found him this morning. Dumped in the middle of the street, she said. Must’ve ran out of information to give. Apparently he hasn’t been able to mutter a sane word since.”

Crope gasped for air. “But h-he’s alive?”

“He’s breathing is what he is. Don’t know so much about being alive.”

His shivering body collapsed into Martha’s. He was sobbing but he didn’t know why or what he was even feeling anymore. All he wanted was to be with Tibbett, he knew how he should feel.

“Now listen, kid,” Martha whispered into his ear in a most conspiring way. “Tonight a supplier will bring some food down to the shed. Can’t buy too much by myself without drawing attention, you know? Before I say anything else, please remember that you’ll be the safest here. But... If you want, this supplier can give you a lift to where Tibbett’s sheltered.”

“I’ll do it,” Crope said instantly.

“You do realize if you get caught, you’re as good as dead?”

“I don’t care,” Crope said.

He wasn’t going to stand by this time.

\--

Frex walked up the bell tower, six pair of boots and one pair of clicking heels behind him. He hadn’t expected this many Gale Force soldiers when Morrible mentioned the arrest. Sure, that wretched Gillikinese girl was once a Captain, but she couldn’t be that strong could she?

He halted before the wooden door. “It won’t be easy to get in. They barricaded the door.”

“Don’t you worry, deacon,” Madame Morrible said. “That’s nothing my soldiers can’t fix.”

At once the soldiers straightened by her command and tilted the iron ram they had carried with them. It only took two broad swings before the ancient door cracked open under its force. With all their strength the soldiers pushed the door open, moving along all the furniture set in front of it. 

Morrible waltzed into the room triumphantly, followed by her soldiers. Frex didn’t enter the room as much as leaned into the doorframe. It made him feel like an outside observer, which suited the situation best, he thought.

“We claimed sanctuary!” Glinda yelled, panicked as the six soldiers marched up to scoop up Elphaba from the floor. 

“See, I distinctly recall the message proclaiming sanctuary for Glinda of the Arduennas, not for a green witch called Elphaba,” Morrible snarled at her and commanded her soldiers. “Take her to the southern bridge for execution.”

Elphaba’s body was lifted with ease, willingly letting her guide by the soldiers to the stairs. Frex’s brow was knitted in confusion. He had never seen Elphaba’s body so limp, or seen her skin quite so pale. The real shock however, was when she passed him moving down the stairs, and met his gaze.

Her eyes, though a deep dark brown, always had a feistiness to them. Like a passion burning inside her, that told the world she wasn't going down without a fight. Or at least not without a biting remark. Now, all that coloured her eyes was a hollowness that cut deep into Frexspar’s soul.

Frex ran his hand down the stone wall to steady himself. Madame Morrible gave him a pad of approval on his shoulder and then followed the soldiers down.

“Elphie!”

The cry echoed through the staircase. Before he could step aside, Glinda shoved an arm under his neck and he felt the air escape from his lungs as she pinned him to the wall.

“ _How could you_?!” she spat out. Tears were streaming down her face in anger. “All she wanted from you was some sort of father-figure. Only _once_ did you have to show her a _shred_ of humanity and you didn't! You pathetic excuse for a man!”

She stomped him in the guts as she let go off him. Frex gasped for air and sank down to the ground, his arm covered over his stomach.

Glinda stormed down the staircase, running after the Gale Force. Frexspar reached out a shaking arm in her direction.

“Y-Your sanctuary,” he called out to her, breathless.

But Glinda ignored him, and kept yelling Elphaba’s name over and over again until her voice left the bell tower and Frex was completely alone.

His world caught up with him, and it was a world he could not handle. He closed his eyes and started hesitantly. “Father... I believe I am a good man, Father. I-I know I have made mistakes in the past but your guidance pulled me through. Yet I cannot shake the thought… that perhaps…”

In that moment, Frexspar made the biggest mistake of his life:

He started to doubt.

“Forgive me... Father. I cannot - this is so unlike me. But for the first time, I wonder what if…”

He dug his nails into the wall. “I thought you had sent me a message, all those years ago. But what if it was another message you were trying to sent?” 

He knew the rules of unionism by heart. He lived by them every day and he believed them to be true. Then how could he feel the way he did, after he finally completed his task? Did the Unnamed God really want him to love a green demon? Show Elphaba mercy when nobody else had?

He should have known he was doomed the moment he let his faith become his fate. For he knew he should be the one getting drowned. And drown he did. In his sorrows. In his regrets. 

With his fingernails he scratched around the rough surface, deeper and deeper, until he screamed out in pain and madness. He clutched and he clawed. Blood under his fingernails. Despair in his eyes. Until his final message to the world was carved into the stone wall:

_ANANKE_

Frexspar did not move, did not leave the very step he had fallen on for three days. His body slowly decayed as he questioned his lifelong devotions. His own thoughts contradicting themselves and clashing with everything he had preached over his life. Once the storm inside him settled, he closed his eyes one last time and mumbled his very last prayer.

“Forgive me… Turtle Heart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who need it, here’s a guitarist with their dog playing a [calming song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t3O6vA0UL3k).


	16. A Fate Worse Than Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning(s)** : mentions of death, depiction of violence, suicidal imagery
> 
>  
> 
>  _“The moments when you're in so deep / it feels easier to just swim down”_ \- It’s Quiet Uptown, Hamilton

Glinda knew it was over as soon as she heard boots march up the bell tower. But she hadn’t counted on the sinking feeling in her stomach that would hold her back. The same feeling of resignation that she felt at her execution. Back then she thought it was because she had exhausted her magic. This time though, it felt like her magic was repressed by something much bigger she couldn’t get a hold off. Of all the times she had feared magic would betray her, she never expected it to be like this.

In a blur she exited Notre Dame and ran after the Gale Force. They were carrying Elphaba to the river. This time they didn’t wait for a massive audience to witness the execution, it had to be done quick and dirty. Glinda’s lungs were begging her to slow down, but the distance between her and Elphaba was growing. The Gale Force had already reached the bridge and Madame Morrible was frantically pointing and shouting instructions. 

Two soldiers lifted Elphaba up over the side of the bridge and pushed her over the edge. A loud scream escaped Glinda’s throat as Elphaba fell down with a splash. Her green skin started sizzling instantly and the high-pitched screeches evoked such pain and horror Glinda felt like she was dying with her.

Glinda ran faster, pushing one of the soldiers aside and climbed the stone ledge of the bridge. She saw green skin drowning underneath boiling water. Elphaba tried to keep her head above the surface, but with every gasp of breath her lungs filled themselves with water and left her choking. 

Without second thought Glinda pushed herself off the ledge. Firm hands dug into her shoulders and pulled her down. Her back bruised against stone and for a moment she blacked out. When she opened her eyes she got up once more and blood rushed too fast to her head. Through the blinking dots in her vision she saw how the green sunk to the bottom. The boiling of the water stopped. 

Morrible yanked Glinda harshly down to the ground and with a snap of her fingers the soldiers cuffed her wrists. Glinda let it happen. Whatever came next, there was no point resisting now. Morrible had won.

\--

Crope held his breath when the carriage stopped. He was crouched down in a barrel and had no clue where they were or what was going on. He heard muffled voices arguing but could not make sense of the string of words. How many different voices were there? Two? Three?

The conversation halted. Footsteps came nearer. Crope made himself smaller even though nobody could see him. Someone knocked on the wood of the barrel.

“You can come out now Crope. It’s safe.”

Crope breathed out heavily and knocked off the top of the barrel. “Ev above don’t _ever_ scare me like that! I thought we were caught.”

The driver tipped his hat off with a grin. 

They were parked inside a closed stable where supplies got delivered. Next to the driver he saw two familiar faces: Q.P and Boq. 

“Holy shit!” Crope gasped and fell off the wagon in his enthusiasm. He crawled back up and brushed off the hay from his shirt and pants before embracing Boq. “I can’t believe I’m here with you.”

For a second Crope forgot why he had come and was so glad to be reunited with Boq he even kissed him on both cheeks. Boq looked embarrassed but also relieved to see his friend hadn’t changed all that much.

“Is Fiyero here too?”

The question instantly killed the mood.

“Fiyero got captured. He sacrificed himself so I could escape in time.” 

“That does sound like Yero,” Crope replied to not worsen the mood even more. He turned to the priest. “Are we in your church, Q.P? Is this where Tibbett is?”

Q.P nodded gently. 

Boq gave Crope a pat on the back, as if he already knew. “We can catch up later. I’m sure you want to see Tibbett first.”

Crope nodded, relieved he understood. 

Q.P gestured to follow him. They left the stable and entered the supply room. They went through another door and walked up a bunch of stairs. He halted abruptly and Crope almost bumped into him.

Q.P pointed at the door and then laid his hands on Crope’s shoulder. It was a calming gesture. 

“Thank you,” Crope smiled and waited until Q.P. was out of sight. He took a deep breath and opened the door. He was not prepared to see Tibbett like this.

His cheeks had fallen in and his eyes looked misty. Nobody bothered to comb his gorgeously long hair, and he was wearing some old sheet. He was sitting on the bed, a blanket wrapped around him, yet he was still shivering. 

“Tibbs?”

Tibbett looked at him. There was no spark of recognition. “Hello?”

Crope hesitated before he walked closer. “Tibbs, it’s me. Crope,” he slowly despaired. “Please say you remember me.”

Tibbett furrowed his brow, concentrating on Crope’s face. At last, he slowly nodded. “Of course. Crope.”

The complete lackluster stung in Crope’s heart. He sat down on the bed and took his hand. “I’m really glad to see you. How are you feeling?”

Tibbett shrugged and looked away.

Tears sprung into Crope’s eyes. It was as if life was sucked out of him. What in Oz name had the Gale Force done to him? 

“Maybe it’s those dull clothes you’re wearing. Who dressed you, Q.P?” Crope kept trying. Tibbett didn’t even smile at the joke. 

Tears were falling down on their intertwined hands. _Something_ had to spark inside him right?

“Don’t you worry Tibbs. I’m here now,” Crope squeezed his hand tight. He just had to keep trying. “I’ll help you remember who you are by making you the prettiest boy in all of Oz.”

\--

The tears did not come. There was nothing left. Glinda let herself be guided to the Palace of Justice. The sound of Elphaba choking echoed in her ears. Ice cold water that turned boiling hot. She could feel it and see it and sense it and… and it was too late. 

They walked up the steps and entered the massive hallway. Roaming personnel didn’t even pay the entering party any attention besides a quick glance. How could the world keep moving forward? How did people go on about their daily duties as if time hadn’t stopped ticking? There was only the eternal moment of Elphaba drowning. That’s where time had stuck. Nothing would come after it.

Vaguely, Morrible’s voice entered her mindscape. “... cuffs are … ... necessary … take … off.”

The words barely registered. The metal around Glinda’s wrists got removed. Elphaba’s skin was bruising red. Glinda felt the stone under her fingertips. _Jump! You idiot!_ The choking got louder. Her heart was in her throat.

“... with me?”

Morrible’s lips had moved. Glinda blinked and saw the hall had emptied. When had that happened? What had Morrible said?

“Come,” Morrible urged when Glinda didn’t reply. This time it wasn’t formulated as a question but a demand. She put an arm around her shoulder and Glinda felt herself shrink by the touch as she got forced to move along.

The water called her name. She had to rescue Elphaba; even if she wasn’t allergic to water she could still freeze to death. The wind blew through Glinda’s hair. She was on the top of Notre Dame. She would have to jump all the way down. She _had_ to! Glinda closed her eyes and jumped. She kept falling and falling but her body never hit the water. 

“Then again, I doubt you’ll be needed. You … … … well.”

“I - what?” 

They were in the courtyard. Glinda absently remembered the path they had taken. It was overshadowed by the eternal moment she was stuck in.

“Your part, dear.”

Her head felt heavy. “What part?”

Morrible didn’t reply. She didn’t. Right? In the distance she saw people being pushed into carriages. They looked familiar. The gate opened and a carriage drove away. The people in it were screaming. How did she know all these people? Who were they? Where were they going? 

She was on the bridge again. Her body hanging over the ledge and her arm stretched out. Elphaba was holding by at her fingertips. The water swirling beneath them. Elphaba was saying something but the world had gone mute. The only sound was the wind that made her eyes tear up. She felt Elphaba slipping away. Why were her muscles refusing to work? _Why didn’t she do something_? She had to help her! Elphaba looked her in the eye, for one last intense moment, and let go. Glinda screamed her lungs out, but there was no more sound left.

Sweat had collected on her forehead and Glinda sank through her knees. The black-and-white floor pattern all too familiar. This was the quarter she used to work in. She was breathing too fast, her hands were burning with energy.

“Are you alright, dear?”

Glinda shot her a thunderous look. Her heart full of hatred and her body pumped with adrenaline. She could do it. She could kill Morrible. Like she had killed Elphaba. All it took was a little bit of magic. 

Morrible raised her eyebrows questionably. Glinda took a deep breath and the desire ebbed away. The burning sensation in her hands melted to a tingle. A cold shiver ran over her spine. Had she seriously just considered murder?

Glinda got up and knew she couldn’t let her mind go there ever again. Morrible was still looking at her strangely and Glinda waved off the question with a simple “Dizzy.” 

She followed Morrible to her office. She was stuck on the bridge. Back to the Palace. Bridge. Palace. Bridge. Palace. 

“Take a seat,” Morrible gestured.

Glinda hesitantly picked out a chair. Before she could sit down she heard the _click_ of the door being locked and her eyes widened in alert. Slowly, she lowered her body into the cushions. She was trapped.

Locked away in both time and space. Was this the same illness that had befallen Elphaba? Was that why she could no longer reach her? Not that it mattered now. Elphaba was eternally choking in her head and there was nothing left to reach for.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” there was a sadistic satisfaction to Morrible’s tone. “Perhaps I’ve given you too much credit. I thought you to be more curious than this.” 

“What do you want from me?” 

Morrible slid into her chair behind her desk. “No need for hostility. Don’t tell me you’re no longer civil enough for some chatter.”

Anger bottled up inside her. “Civil? You _killed_!”

“She’s a witch,” Morrible replied simply. 

“So am I.”

“Oh, darling. You and Elphaba are complete opposites. You’re not a threat.”

“You thought differently back when I defied you. You shot me.”

“That’s because I did not know then what I do now.”

“Which is?”

Morrible stopped for a moment, weighing whether she should reveal this information or not. “You can only thrive in validation, Miss Glinda. All those months ago in the bakery, you didn’t act of your own accord, did you? You already knew you could find a place within the resistance. You do not _move_ unless there’s somewhere to jump. This makes you predictable. Miss Elphaba on the other hand acts in the moment without a plan, making her much more dangerous. _She_ is the one who could survive on her own. You on the other hand… Well let’s just say that if there’s no one left who believes in you, you’ll wither away.”

Morrible gestured around the empty room. “Nobody is here. You are no threat to me.” 

Glinda grinded her teeth. “I have the Court. They believe me. I’m not withering yet.”

“Oh? You mean the people we were rounding up in carriages back in the courtyard? You saw them. They saw _you_. Unchained, may I add, and by my side. They believe you betrayed them, Miss Glinda. The ones that escape will tell the cautionary tale how a Gillikinese Captain successfully infiltrated the Court and played them all. Worst of all Elphaba, whose blood is on your hands.”

Glinda pushed herself out the chair. “ _Don’t_ speak her name!” 

“Miss Glinda, do calm down. Your threats are meaningless.” Madame Morrible sounded bored. “You had your chance in the hallway. You didn’t take it then you won’t take it now.”

Glinda froze. How did Morrible know? She looked around the office in panic. There had to be something else. Morrible never stopped scheming. Twice before she had Glinda’s execution planned. What had changed? 

“What am I doing here?”

“Helping us end this ridiculous war. Thanks to you, Oz will be peaceful once more. A true Captain indeed.” 

Her appraisal was menacing. Glinda’s stomach turned. How could she ever have worked for someone as despicable as Morrible?

“Pretty easy to end a war if you kill all your opponents.” 

“Not _kill_ ,” Morrible corrected her. “Relocated. The Winkies are sent back to their homeland.”

The courtyard. That's why she recognized them. The Arjikis were forcefully relocated out of Emerald City in those carriages that looked more like cages. A journey back to the Vinkus would take a few weeks easily. There was barely enough room for them to sit down and it didn’t look like a lot of food carriages would be joining them.

“And how many of them will die of dehydration or exposure?”

“Crossing Kumbricia’s Pass has always been dangerous. If anyone would guarantee safe passing they’d be lying.” 

“Goddammit, these are _lives_ you are toying with!” Glinda bursted out. Her face had gone pulsing red and her breathing was heavy. 

“It’s nothing personal, dear. Decisions had to be made. That’s just sadly how politics work sometimes,” Morrible said with a steady but cool tone. 

Glinda slummed back in the chair. What could she possibly do now? Elphaba was gone. She had lost track of everyone in the Court. Many of them caught by the Gale Force. The Arjikis were forced back to the Vinkus and who knew what they were doing to the Animals and other Court members. 

“What about me?”

“What about you?” Morrible said nonplussed.

“How are you going to get rid of me?” Glinda clarified.

Morrible furrowed her brow. “I’m afraid you’ve gotten the wrong impression of me and the Gale Force. Months of exposure to the rebellion has made you paranoid. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a busy schedule and much more urgent matters to attend to.”

“So that’s it then? You don’t consider me _worthy_ of killing?”

“You’re keen on dying?” Morrible’s voice carried sharply. She dug her hand inside her sleeve and slid out a dagger. With a force that made Glinda jump in her chair Morrible stuck the knife in the surface of the desk. “Do it yourself.” 

Morrible brushed past her and slammed the door shut, locking it from the other side. 

Glinda stared straight ahead, the dagger in front of her. She reached out and clasped her hand around the handle. With a swift motion she pulled the dagger out and laid the sharp side in the palm of her left hand. The metal was sharp, even with little pressure she had made a thin cut and a drop of blood escaped.

Once more she was on the bridge. Elphaba was dressed in dark clothes standing at the edge, the water under her feet drowning out any sound. Glinda tried to reach out but she was too far away. Elphaba jumped. Robes muffled her chilling screams and the water around her colored red. Her body tossed and turned while she was choking on her own blood. Once the sounds stopped, lifeless eyes stared up to the sky. But the dead body didn’t have Elphaba’s green skin, but golden Gillikinese hair. 

Glinda snapped out of her thoughts and the dagger clattered on the floor. Her palms were drenched in cold sweat. Whatever poisonous thoughts Morrible seeded she wouldn’t give in. She had escaped death before and she most certainly wasn’t going to die by her own hands now.

Before she used magic to open the door she listened carefully if there were any members of the Gale Force patrolling. When the coast was clear she got out of Morrible’s office. Nobody was in sight. 

Her first destination was the courtyard. Night had fallen and the place was emptied out. All the carriages must’ve left hours ago. Glinda continued her journey through the Palace. It was completely abandoned. More than once she wondered if she was trapped inside a dream, or more accurately, a nightmare. She had never seen the Palace like this. Still, she moved on no matter how slow her feet were carrying her or how much her body was shaking. 

She got to the main entrance without seeing another soul. Outside, the cool air greeted her. She squinted her eyes and peered into the dark. She didn’t have any light with her and she was too exhausted to conjure up fire through magic. Glinda stumbled further in the shimmer of the moonlight.

On the west side of the city laid Q.P’s church. There she would be safe. Though getting there suddenly was the hardest task yet. Her feet were heavy like rocks, her shoulders were carrying the world. Step by step, she moved on. 

The first bridge she could cross to the western side she ignored. No matter how much longer she had to walk to the next bridge, she would _not_ cross the one where Elphaba…

Glinda made a noise in the back of her throat and clutched to the ledge to steady herself. It had finally hit her. Elphaba was dead. They would never share space together again. Never would she hear her voice again, see a shine of emerald skin, gaze into those deep eyes. 

Her chest ached and she let out an ugly dry sob. This afternoon Elphaba had grabbed her shoulders and told her to leave her alone. Glinda thought that would be the scariest thing she would ever experience. She had thought there was nothing left she could do to help Elphaba, and maybe that was true. But at least there was the hope of _someday_ when they had escaped Emerald City and could rebuild their life, together. 

Without Elphaba the world no longer made sense. She loved her so much. And now that same love that gave her so much hope was slowly killing her. It had become a gaping void that was swallowing her piece by piece.

Glinda bit her tongue to not let the horrendous scream building up inside her escape. Her hands were glowing with energy. The light was blinding her and she squeezed her eyes shut. The ledge she was holding on to crumbled by her touch. Pieces of stone splashed into the river. 

“ _NO_!” 

She pushed herself away from the ledge, the magic giving her an extra boost. She tumbled over and crashed into a crate at the other side of the street. Her whole body was numb. Her head felt like it was about to explode. 

She was going to survive. She _had_ to. She owed that much to Elphie. Glinda scrambled to get back up. She was cold, her body was bruised and her legs trembling. She did not know where she had found the strength to continue going, but soon the north-western bridge came into view. 

With one hand supporting on the ledge to keep her balance, she pushed through and crossed the bridge. The church was not too far away now. The thought of a warm blanket wrapped around her carried her through. 

She stumbled over the steps in front of the church and let her body fall onto the wooden door. With her last bit of energy she knocked on the door. “Q.P. please. Open up.” Her voice was hoarse and had lost the strength it once possessed.

Something moved on the other side of the door.

“Who is it?”

She knew that voice. “... Boq? It’s me. Glinda.”

The bolts shifted and Glinda nearly fell down as the door opened. 

Boq instantly reached for her and put an arm around her middle to steady her. “By Oz! What happened to you?”

It all flashed before her eyes again. The bridge. Elphaba. Choking. Boiling water. 

“E-E-Elphi-ie…” Glinda put a hand over her mouth as tears streamed down her face. 

Boq’s eyes widened in shock and he swallowed back tears of his own. He wrapped his other arm around her and Glinda rested her chin on his shoulder. Tears that had refused to come out before were drowning out all the pain, all the emptiness she was feeling. She sobbed uncontrollably and only Boq’s embrace stopped her from falling completely apart. Boq’s tears fell onto her shirt, and she knew she was as much a pillar to him as he was to her.

The only witness to their mourning was the moonlight casting their shadows stretching far into the church. As if it too grieved that the world had gone a little quieter today.


	17. I Shall Carry Your Legacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning(s)** : mentions of death

The curtains got drawn and a ray of light hit Glinda’s sleeping face. She groaned groggily and threw the blanket over her head.

“Oh don’t be like that, Glinda!” Boq said, his voice too chipper this early. “It is the most wonderful morning. You simply must see this! Spring has finally come. There’s blossom on that big old tree in front of your window.”

“Who cares? It’s not like we can go outside.” Her voice sounded muffled through the blankets.

“At least we get daylight here. We hadn’t such luxuries in the Court. It’s just how you’d want to perceive the world.”

“And I would want to perceive the world under my blanket. Master Boq, you are dismissed.”

Boq huffed, annoyed that she had addressed him as if he were staff. “Fine. Be a grump. But I’ll have you know Q.P has made his delicious custard tarts and if you don’t get up soon there won’t be any left.” 

He stomped off and left her alone in her chambers. Glinda sighed. She hadn’t even been awake for a clock tick and she already had a killing headache and offended one of her best friends. It was tempting to keep under the covers and ignore anything that wasn’t part of her warm and safe bubble. Though she knew it wouldn’t be long until her darkest memories would invade, and without the proper distractions they would consume her.

Glinda got up and threw on some clothes. She brushed her hair without looking in the mirror. Only on days where she was able to face the mess that she had become she would check and do some damage control. Today was no such day. 

Soon after, Glinda joined Boq at the kitchen table downstairs. He looked up briefly and when he saw who it was got back to the newspaper he was reading. “Don’t worry, there’s still some custard left.”

“I don’t care much about that.”

Boq frowned at her, concerned. “You need to eat, Glinda.”

Glinda reached over and briefly pinched his arm. “I meant I need to apologize. I addressed you like a servant earlier. That was plain wrong.”

He seemed to appreciate the acknowledgement. “Well, I guess I had it coming. I shouldn’t have bursted into your private chambers in the first place.” 

Boq sighed. He put the paper aside and wrung his hands. “The thing is… We’ve lost so many of us. And it hurts me, actually physically _hurts_ me to think we will lose more. Not to death per se, but to insanity.”

He was no longer talking about her, but about Tibbett. Crope hadn’t joined them yet so he must be at his side, as he was most days.

“I try to keep things as positive as I can. For your sake, and Crope’s, and mine too. We can’t give in to that darkness.”

Glinda smiled at that. “For what it’s worth, it actually kinda helps.”

“Just not early in the morning,” Boq nudged her.

With the mood rather light and playful, Glinda ate her breakfast while Boq read the paper. Sometimes he highlighted an article he thought she would be interested in too. Glinda only listened with half an ear. She tried to focus but the fog in her head made it difficult.

A Bird flew through the small open window and landed on the table gracefully. He was a beautiful black Crow. Ever since the underground Court of Miracles had been discovered, many Birds had been delivering messages between the scattered resistance members. The Crow hopped over to Boq, the rolled up parchment attached to his body bobbing along. 

“Morning. Letter for you.”

“Ah thank you, Hik,” Boq said and undid the string that was wrapped around him. “Another letter from Sarima I assume?”

Hik cawked affirmative and plucked at his feathers with his beak. “That string is itchy as hell, I tell you.” He craned his neck and was instantly distracted by the food. “Can I have some?”

“Yeah, take whatever,” Boq mumbled, engrossed by deciphering Sarima’s letter.

Glinda looked at Hik who was picking at some bread. She noticed a large scar under his wing. “You must be hungry, having flown all the way from Kiamo Ko.”

“You tell me!” Hik said with a mouthful. “That Sarima never stops writing. Must be those pregnancy hormones. Does she even read your replies? I don’t know! I go there and she immediately wants to attach five scrolls to me. No no, missy! _One_ reply per ride. I am only a Crow after all.”

In his rant the food he was chewing had fallen out of his mouth. He hopped around his center and snatched up the breadcrumbs. “Not to mention those billion crazy sisters of hers. What is that about anyway? A harem full of hysterical screaming ladies? No man would want that, right? Humans are strange.”

Glinda found Hik a bit too rude for her taste. “I’m sure they’re not all that bad.”

“You do the next delivery then. You’ll see.”

The remark annoyed her even more because at least he _had_ the freedom to roam around. She left Hik to his food and turned to Boq. “What does it say?”

“Another carriage made it to Kiamo Ko. Even less survivors this time.”

“It only _just_ arrived? It has been over three months.”

“Apparently they went deep into the Vinkus, through the Sour Sands. Most of them died of dehydration.”

Glinda felt agitated. “The Sour Sands borders Quadling Country, that makes no bloody sense. It’s a complete different direction.”

“I’m guessing that was the point,” Boq said. “She’s also asking about Fiyero again. Should I write down the usual?”

“I guess.” 

Hik stretched his wings and hopped around. “Crope’s not here?”

“He’s with Tibbett.”

“Ah,” Hik clucked. “Still fighting I see. I wonder why.”

“It might be his final week,” Boq said.

“You said that last week.”

“Is this a joke to you?” Glinda snapped.

Hik startled. “No, why would it? Tibbs’ a great guy.”

“Glinda,” Boq hushed her and reached for her arm.

“No! Piss off!” Glinda waved off his hand. “Some people are trying to _cope_ here. Life’s shitty enough without your awful banter.”

She pushed herself away from the table and slammed the door on her way out. In the corridor she could hear Hik’s confusion. “What’s with her?”

“She’s grieving. You know about Elphaba, right?”

The tears burnt in her eyes. She furiously wiped them away. It had been months. She couldn’t keep crying every time someone mentioned her name. There were things left to do. Like laundry, or help Q.P prepare for evening mass. Simple things. _Normal_ things. Every day was a drag, but it was all there was.

\--

Saliva dribbled down Tibbet’s chin. Crope patted it up in a practiced manor. 

“You’re being messy, dear.” 

Tibbett giggled, more spit coming out of his mouth. Most of his teeth had rotted and fallen out. 

“You like that, huh? When your boyfriend cleans up your mess?” Crope sighed and reached for a dry towel. He tucked it in Tibbett’s shirt so he wouldn’t dribble on his freshly cleaned nightshirt. “I guess I would make fun of me too if I were in your position.”

Tibbett turned his head to the side. His eyes were twitching and he lifted his neck, searching for Crope. 

Crope took Tibbett’s shaking hand. “What is it, handsome? I’m up here.”

Tibbett strained to keep his head up, but it costed him too much energy. He flopped back to the pillow and closed his eyes.

“I-I need the s-soup bowl,” Tibbett muttered. “Soup bowl f-for my-my mansion.”

The little burst of hope died down. Crope patted his hand disappointingly. “I’ll get it for you.”

“D-Don’t… forget… f-fluffy triangles.”

“I won’t.”

The promise eased Tibbett’s mind, and he fell asleep satisfied.

Crope sighed and let go off his hand. He desperately craved a walk of fresh air. All he could do was go to another room.

He entered the communal space. It had a table where on some evenings, guests of the church played cards. There was a bookcase with dense unionism texts and two beat up couches on a carpet. 

On one of the couches sat Glinda, a pile of yarn spilling over the edge. She had picked up knitting to make her own clothes, but even a scarf was still too advanced for her. 

Crope plowed into the seat next to hers and threw his head back. Glinda put the needles close to her face and made a knot. It instantly unraveled itself again.

“Tibbett’s asleep?”

“Yeah. He’s been drooling all over himself. You wouldn’t even recognize him. Not a sensible word comes out of his mouth.”

She made another knot. It bulged weirdly to the left. She groaned. “Forget it.”

Crope raised his eyebrow. “You need help there?”

“No. I got it,” Glinda gritted and fluffed the yarn together. “Why bother, right? I’m hopeless at domestic stuff. I don’t even _want_ to do this. But they all tell me I should try to pick up my normal life but nothing is _normal_ and nothing ever will be and everyone can just rot in hell!” She threw the yarn and needles at the wall.

She rubbed the sting out of her eyes and exhaled. “I’m sorry, you of all people don’t need this.”

“I get it. I hate it too,” Crope said. “I can’t do a thing while the man I love slowly slips away from me.” 

Glinda met his eye. “It’s not fair, is it?”

“I just… he’s in so much pain,” he choked up. “And I don’t want to lose him, y’know? But this is no way to live.”

Crope started sobbing. He curled up and laid his head in Glinda’s lap. “How do you do it, Glin? How do you get up every day without her?”

Glinda brushed her hand through his hair. “I don’t. I wake up, I see her die. During the day I keep finding myself on that godawful bridge. She’s the last thing I see before I sleep and she visits me in my dreams.”

Tears fell into his hair. “I can’t even speak her name, but I miss her always.”

“I’m sorry,” Crope lifted himself out of her lap and tucked his feet under his body. “I don’t know why I brought her up.”

He cupped Glinda’s head and with his thumbs wiped away her tears. She gave him a watery smile. “You’re stronger than you think Crope. I don’t know if I could’ve done what you’re doing. At least she didn’t suffer for long.”

Crope sniffed and blinked away his tears. He took a deep breath and looked at her intensely. “We’re going to make it through. Tell me we’re going to.”

Glinda nodded, new tears forming in her eyes. “Y-Yes. We are.”

Crope planted a kiss on her head and buried himself in her shoulder. They held each other tight for a long time and wept in silence.

\--

Two days passed and Crope barely left Tibbett’s bedside. He was no longer speaking, his fever had gone up, and most of the time he was unconscious. Crope knew it wouldn’t take long now, but Tibbett refused to let go. At a loss what to do, Crope could no longer hold it in.

“Tibbs… please listen to me,” Crope began softly. “I know you’re still here so don’t pretend you can’t hear this.” His eyes were red from crying days on end and he cleared his throat. “Loving you, has been the easiest and best thing I’ve ever done. But you have to let go now. You’re clinging to life for me, I know you are. But you shouldn’t.”

Crope squeezed his hands. His cheeks hurt from the many tears that he shed. “ _Please_. I can’t watch you keep up a battle we both know you’re losing. I -”

He choked up. “I don’t want you to suffer any longer. You deserve peace a-and happiness. I know you can no longer find it here. So let go.”

Gently, he kissed Tibbett’s hand. “Let go, my love. You have shown how much you love me and I hope I’ve shown it in return. From now on I will carry your problems, your pain, your insecurities. Everything you hate about yourself; I shall carry it for you. You won’t have anything to worry about anymore.”

Tibbett hadn’t stirred in a while, but he stubbornly kept on breathing. “Be strong and become weightless. Float away in bliss, I don’t mind. I can experience life for the both of us.”

He kissed him. “Rest my darling,” Crope said through his tears and kissed his forehead. “My sweet, brave Tibbs.”

Long after Crope’s tears had dried, Tibbett drew his last breath. Crope held onto him, as his body grew colder. Tomorrow he would inform the others. Tonight, he decided, was theirs.

Into the dark hours, he retold their story. Basking in it one last time. Smiling and sobbing, with a heart that desperately sought for its missing match. It hurt to remember, but it hurt more not to.

Never had he dreaded the morning sun more.

\--

Tibbett’s funeral went by fast. There was no time nor place for it. Crope put Tibbett in the cleanest dress he could dig up in the church and did his make-up the way he liked it. It covered his fallen cheeks nicely too. Boq and Glinda said their goodbyes and each gave Crope a comforting squeeze in his shoulder. They left him alone with Tibbett till two resistance members would pick him up to bury him.

They weren’t allowed to come. They didn’t really want to anyway.

\--

Another one of Sarima’s letters arrived two weeks later. They had just finished dinner and were cleaning the dishes when Hik flew in. After the mandatory condolences and Hik being distracted by at least five different shiny objects, they finally sat down at the table in the communal room and Boq read the letter out loud. 

It was the usual spill asking if there were any new details about Fiyero. Glinda was ready to call it a night, but Boq interfered: “I still remain of the position that if Fiyero got killed, we would’ve known about it. He is too valuable to lose. He’s the leader of the Court after all. They wouldn’t celebrate his death lightly.”

“So we still think he’s alive?” Crope asked.

“That’s where I’m betting on. The question is _where_ is he?” 

They all looked towards Glinda.

“How should I know? I haven’t been Captain for over three seasons.” 

“But you worked there. Where did you keep prisoners?”

“Well there is a small prison in the east wing but they would never hold Fiyero there. It was only used for pickpockets or people who got in a fistfight and similar small crimes.”

Boq frowned, “So where’s the prison for the big criminals? Like murderers and such?” 

“How should I know?” Glinda tried to control her frustration that inevitably rose up with this subject. “I was only ever a public figure. If there’s another prison in the Palace it’s run in secret. I’ve never heard anyone talk about it during my service.”

“Do you think Fiyero could be there?”

“It’s a possibility, but let me emphasize again that I don’t know if such prison even _exists_.”

Boq looked around the table. “Only one way to find out.”

“No!” Glinda said as soon as it dawned on her. “No, we’re not going to lose more people. Boq how could you? Have you already forgotten how our last operation went?”

“It won’t be like that! Our last attempt we were planning a massive coupe. This time we’re only trying to find Fiyero.”

“And what if one of us gets _killed_ and we don’t find him? Crope, please talk some sense into him.”

“Actually… I’m with Boq on this,” Crope said, raising everyone’s attention. “I know we’ve had some big losses, but we can’t let Fiyero be held prisoner while we’re living in the church’s sanctuary. I cannot live comfortably with the knowledge. It’s not fair to him.”

“And here I thought Sarima was crazy. Last time I tried to help a friend escape I almost died. Got a scar to prove it,” Hik said, plucking under his wing. “I’ll stick to delivering letters thank you very much.”

Glinda silently thanked to whoever above Hik the Distracted wasn’t joining them.

“That’s fine, Hik. You’ve got other duties, we get it,” Boq said kindly.

“If you’re going to scheme all night I better leave. Can’t tell what I don’t know, hm? Where’s Q.P? I need a place to sleep. Will he have leftover food?”

“I think I saw Q.P in the church last, cleaning the altar,” Glinda was fast to answer. 

“Right, right. Leave your response on the kitchen table. I’ll get it in the morning.” With that, Hik flew away and left the three alone.

Glinda sighed in relief and Crope stifled a laugh.

“What?”

Crope squeezed her arm affectionately, “He’s just a young Bird, Glinda. He can’t help it.”

The shared a look and Glinda realized how much she had missed Crope and his playful laughter. The battle Tibbett had fought was long and painful and Crope had been with him every step of the way. It was nice to see a little flicker of hope back into his eyes. 

“Okay,” Glinda decided. “Let’s find out where Fiyero is.”

“Really?”

“It’s… It’s what Elphaba would’ve wanted.”

Her name didn’t feel as heavy as it did before. It was lighter somehow, as if she approved of the decision.

“She would’ve been the first to volunteer, no doubt,” Boq agreed. “I know this won’t be easy, but I’m sure we can find him if we search the Palace thoroughly.”

“Actually, I might have a lead,” Glinda slowly began. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately - the day we were raiding the Palace and we got captured. A Guard might have slipped up. He mentioned a place called Southstairs. Which was odd, because I never heard of it before.”

“Did you figure out where it could be hidden?”

“There was a wing in the south department I’ve never entered. There was no security or anything to give it any attention so I never thought it important. I think that’s where we should start our search.”

Boq laid his hands on the table. “One last time? All or nothing?” 

Crope took Boq’s hand and instinctively Glinda reached out too. Despite the many loses the circle had faced, a new spark of determination ignited.

“Let’s find our friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading the chapter! If you want to talk about this AU you can leave a comment or shoot an ask on my [Tumblr](http://wickedlyqueer.tumblr.com)!


	18. Dust Is What We Come To

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning(s):** heavy depictions of violence and torture

They gave themselves twelve days to prepare. Glinda started practicing magic, her fingers were itching to try some spells after months of repressing the need. Boq covered the theoretical side and pondered over the many scenarios that could occur. Crope picked up sword fighting again, sometimes practicing together with Glinda. 

The only place with enough open space was the church itself. In between masses, the minimalist decor transformed to a stage. The church benches became shields and walls to hide behind. The altar stood in as Fiyero’s cell. They roleplayed as Morrible or different Guards to decide attack maneuvers. They practiced different strategies until Q.P alerted them he required the space again.

The day before the break in they went to bed at noon. Glinda could not sleep, but tried to get as much rest as she could. Whatever came next, she had to be prepared for it. She couldn’t fail again like she had failed Elphaba. She wouldn’t _allow_ herself to fail. 

Once night truly had fallen she heard Boq shuffling around his room. Not much later there were two soft knocks on her door. That was her cue to get ready. She got dressed in the dark outfit she had laid out before going to bed. It was of the essence she could move swiftly in the material. She also equipped herself with a sword on her back and tucked her dagger away in her belt so it was hidden.

When Glinda got downstairs, Boq and Crope were already waiting. Each dressed in dark camouflage and equipped with weapons. They nodded to each other in silence.

Crope repressed a yawn. “Any of you slept?”

“No,” came the unison reply.

Apparently they were going to do this solely on adrenaline.

“Does Q.P know we’re forsaking his sanctuary?” Glinda asked.

“Yes, Q.P knows we’re out tonight. Nothing more, for his own safety," Boq looked between the three of them. “So… we ready? Packed everything?”

Crope reached for his sword on his back to double check if it was still there. “I’m set, Boq.”

Glinda nodded. “Let’s go.” 

\--

The walk towards the Palace of Justice was uneventful. It was a chilly spring night and the streets had emptied out. Emerald City was fully asleep. They slipped into the Palace undetected and made their way to the southern wing.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Boq whispered nervously. “I like not being discovered. But shouldn’t we have run into someone by now?”

“Don’t jinx it,” Crope hissed.

Glinda gestured for them to be quiet and scanned the area. It looked differently during the night and her recollection of the wing was hazy at best. It had to be hidden in plain sight, she reminded herself. It took them several tries until they found a door that didn’t lead to an office but a stairs going down instead.

“This must be it,” Glinda said. 

She looked at the boys for confirmation and when they agreed they all walked down. The stairs were steep and they went deep quickly. The air became more humid as they got further. No daylight would reach here. Southstairs lay underground. 

The dim source of light Glinda had conjured up was floating in the palm of her hand. She was aware of every sound, every breath. It was this hyperfocus that made her spot the Guard on duty before anyone else did. She conjured up a stunning spell and blasted it into his direction. The guy looked up in shock just before the spell hit him and he dived to the ground.

She did a quick scan of the area and found nobody else around. “Coast is clear.”

Crope exhaled loudly. Boq moved closer to the Guard and started taking off his armor.

“Boq, I’m usually down for a strip party but I don’t think -”

“Get your head out of the gutter!” Boq hissed at him. “What if we run into another guard? Glinda can’t keep stunning them forever, we will leave a trail.”

“He’s right. Crope you pretend you’re a Guard. Boq and I will be your prisoners,” she said and handed her sword over to Crope. 

None of them knew if it would work but it was the only plan they had. Glinda strapped the armor over Crope’s clothes and put on the helmet while Boq shoved the stunned body into a dark corner. Crope took the Guard’s lantern and walked up front, followed by Boq and Glinda.

They got deeper into Southstairs. There was a constant stream of water running through pipes above and beside the walls. This was the center of the underground sewer system of Emerald City. The first line of cell blocks came into vision. They scanned the prisons for any familiar faces, but they had to keep a steady pace to not get unwanted attention. 

A Guard came around the corner making his round and Glinda ducked her head. The Guard gave a nod of acknowledgement and Crope copied the gesture without hesitation. Time moved agonizingly slow as they passed each other. In the corner of her eye Glinda saw the Guard looking at her with suspicion. Her heart was racing. She had a spell ready at the tip of her tongue, though using it would blow their cover. The Guard wended his eyes and kept walking. Her muscles relaxed. 

They followed a complicated route, a maze of prisons underneath the city run in complete secrecy. How oblivious had she been not to notice it during her time as Captain? The little glimpses she saw of the prisoners showed the abhorrent conditions they were living in. The deeper they got the more unbearable the smell and the louder the agonized noises of the prisoners became.

Boq fainted. Glinda’s reflexes were quick enough to catch him. His eyes were spinning around.

“Boq?” She swatted him carefully on his cheeks to see if he would respond.

Crope turned around alarmed and helped her scoop up Boq. “What happened?”

“He just sank to his knees all at once.”

“Boq, buddy. What’s up?”

“T-T-Tunnels Tha-at Scream-m,” he stuttered.

Glinda focused on the echoed sounds and recognized the wails all too clearly. They were the same as the ones they heard back in the Court of Miracles, only less muffled. All this time the mysterious sounds they heard in the Tunnels That Scream were cries of help from the prisoners. Southstairs and the Court were practically neighbors. Glinda felt sick.

“Holy fuck,” Crope whispered in shock. “He’s right. But how..?”

Glinda shrugged miserably. The real miracle was that Southstairs hadn’t expanded and discovered the Court much earlier.

“We have to keep moving,” she said decisively. “Boq, do you think you can continue?”

He nodded and got up slowly with Crope and Glinda's assistance. They kept walking for a good while. The prison cells became less dense. Just when Glinda got afraid they had been vastly mistaken, and Fiyero had been killed months ago, Crope let out a gasp and sprinted ahead. 

“ _Fiyero_!” 

Boq and Glinda looked at each other and went after him. If not for Crope, she would not have recognized him. Fiyero laid on the ground and looked sickly pale and thin. He was slowly being starved. His hair was thick and long and an unmaintained beard had grown. At the sound of his name, he looked confused to the side. 

“It’s us, Yero,” Crope said, his voice teary. He kneeled besides the bars and reached his hand out. 

Tears sprung in Fiyero’s eyes. “You came for me.”

“Of course,” Crope whispered.

Boq quickly dried tears of his own. “Can you open that, Glinda?” and he pointed at the lock.

She studied it for a moment and casted a spell. It unlocked with ease. She opened the door and ran towards Fiyero. She helped raise his upperbody and Glinda threw her arms around him. She couldn’t believe it. “You’re _alive._ ”

Fiyero embraced her back and Glinda was shocked to feel the boney arms around her.

“We have to get you out of here,” she said. “Are you strong enough to move?”

“I’m not sure,” Fiyero said hesitantly. 

Boq and Crope had gotten in the cell and with the three of them they helped Fiyero get back on his feet. He had trouble standing.

“It’s okay,” Crope said and supported Fiyero by throwing an arm under his shoulder. “I got you. We’ll make it work.”

Together they stumbled out of the cell.

“But how do we get back to the Palace unnoticed?” Boq raised worried.

“We got Fiyero so we can be less worried about being discovered. I’ll will use -” Glinda stopped mid sentence. The clicking of heels echoed and Glinda’s stomach dropped. 

“Go.” She told the boys instantaneously.

Crope looked puzzled. “What?”

“I said go.” 

She moved her hands and charged up her magic.

“What about you?” Boq asked.

The sound of heels got dangerously close.

“I got this. Now _go_.”

Madame Morrible came into vision and Glinda casted a protective bubble blocking the entire hall. This would have to keep them separated for now.

“ _GO_!” Glinda yelled to the boys. 

With worried expressions on their faces they finally listened to her and ran off. Glinda strained her muscles to keep up the force field, though it became more difficult with every passing clock tick. She looked over her shoulder and saw the boys turning around the corner. 

That had to give them enough time. Glinda checked the force field once more and slowly walked backwards. If she could keep up the shield long enough she’d have enough distance to pace out Morrible.

Sweat had collected on her forehead. Glinda tried to blink the heat away. _Just a bit longer._ Her shield got heavier the longer she tried to keep it up. But it was more than that; as if different energy was working against her own.

The force field crumbled before her eyes. Glinda froze. She had never seen that happen before. _How..? No time! RUN!_

She turned around and rushed away. 

“Not so fast!”

Her limbs started to slow down against her will. She looked at the ground to make sure she wasn’t suddenly running through cement. Nothing was out of the ordinary yet her body refused to move forward.

“I don’t…” Glinda panicked. She could not make another step.

“You don’t get it?” Morrible’s voice was all of a sudden very close and Glinda felt the hair in her neck rise. 

She turned her head, and saw Morrible had not move a step from where she had stood before. 

“No… you can’t be,” Glinda stammered. “You’ve executed so many of us.”

“Funny, no? But what good am I if so many others can do what I can?”

“Trust me, no witch would be as quickly enticed to be as wicked as you are.”

Morrible narrowed her eyes. “I let you live before. Clearly that was a mistake.” 

A white energy shot into her direction. Glinda casted a defense spell just in time and the energy bounced off her and crashed into the wall several feet behind. Pieces of stone tumbled to the ground by the impact. 

There was no time to catch her breath. Morrible was already in the midst of casting another spell. A red daze was swirling around her body, growing stronger with every motion. 

Glinda started charging up a stunning spell while she kept an eye on Morrible. The red energy surrounding Morrible was spiky and clawing wildly towards Glinda, as if desperate to be released. She had never read about such enchantments and thus knew the exact passage of the Grimmerie Morrible must be casting her spells from. It were the only chapters that refused to open to her. Every attempt to read it was met with resistance. Only now did she understand why. With despair she wondered if the serene blue energy she was conjuring up would even hold against such violent magic. 

Thoroughly focused on Morrible’s movements, she detected the slight difference in her casting pattern. Without a single moment of hesitance Glinda directed her spell at Morrible at the same time Morrible released her own. 

Something happened that neither Glinda nor Morrible had ever thought possible. Instead of the spells hitting their target the two energies crashed into each other. In the center, where the two sources collided, the colours started to mingle. A mix of different shades of red, blue, and purple spat violently of its source and bounced off the walls. 

Glinda grunted and tears sprung in her eyes to keep the spell afloat. Whatever Morrible had casted, it had been reckless. It tried to consume its way through Glinda’s stunning spell, but it could not penetrate the strong and solid magic.

Glinda dug her feet into the ground and shouted the enchantment over and over again at the top of her lungs. The blue aura grew bigger and stronger until Glinda could no longer see Morrible at the other side of the corridor. She did not know where her spell ended and Morrible’s began. It was an all-consuming purple mass ready to explode. 

At once Morrible drew her power back and ducked. The purple energy flew into Morrible’s direction and the entire wall behind her crumbled under its impact as if it were nothing. Glinda wobbled under the sudden energy loss but remained standing. Morrible was far worse off and was buried under big chunks of the wall, though she was definitely still alive. Glinda swiftly grabbed for her dagger in her belt and with her other hand conjured up another spell as she bolted towards Morrible.

Morrible didn’t even have a chance to respond. Before she had managed to stand up and inspect any damages to her body Glinda casted the spell she had been conjuring up and Morrible bounced through the open hole in the wall and landed harshly on the ground in an empty cell. 

Morrible looked up at her and Glinda was horrified to discover she almost looked _happy_ to have plummeted to the ground. It was this that made Glinda hesitant in her step and kept her guard up. She held out her dagger and did not close in on her.

Morrible scrambled up and brushed off the dust from her sleeves. “You’ve come a long way, dear.”

It was only a glimpse, but for the first time Glinda saw through the prestige smokescreen Madame Morrible had built around her and noticed she was a middle aged lady. That was, for the first time Glinda realized she had advantages over Morrible. Her young age made her flexible, fast, resilient. She had her vitality to rely on. 

“That’s what you tried to prevent, right? You and The Wizard. That’s why you banned all things magic. So only you two could hold that power.”

Morrible scoffed under her breath. “Don’t let names fool you, dearie.”

Glinda knitted her brow. 

“Or titles, for that matter,” Morrible continued. “After all, Captain of the Guard was always just an _honorary_ title. For you and your father. Nothing like strapping Gillikinese blood to oil the propaganda machine.”

Glinda bit her tongue to not let herself be lured into Morrible’s provocative trap. “The Wizard. Why would that name fool me? Is he not who he says he is?”

Morrible’s pursed her lips unamused. “Let’s just say without me leading the forces he’d have left much earlier than he did.”

Glinda was taken aback. The Wizard was gone? For how long? Had Morrible always been in power? “W-Why would you tell me such information?”

“Oh darling. Only one of us will walk out here alive,” Morrible cucked her head. “And time and again you’ve proven unable to kill.”

A white energy spat out of Morrible’s hand and Glinda dodged it by diving to the ground. In her fall Glinda felt the heat as the spell nearly brushed her shoulder. She bit her lip to repress the scream building up in her lungs and jumped back to her feet. With a quick backhand motion she casted a stunning spell that hit Morrible’s legs. This gave Glinda time to gain more stability to cast another, stronger stunning spell. This time aiming for a full corporeal stun. 

“Clever,” Morrible credited her as Glinda carefully walked closer. She reached on her toes and laid her dagger on Morrible’s neck. “But you still haven’t _killed_.” 

Anger boiled inside her. “How you _wished_ you had killed me like you killed Elphaba.”

At the mention of her name, Morrible’s lips perked up into the slightest smirk. Glinda thought she had seen true evil before, but to see her _smile_ at the mere thought of Elphaba’s death made her believe she was staring evil right in the eyes. 

“You showed her no mercy,” Glinda’s voice sounded low and threatening. Tears of anger rolled down her face. “So I won’t show you any either!”

Glinda brought her dagger down and slashed Morrible’s hands open. It was a technical wound: once the stunning spell would wear out, spells would be difficult to cast. Instead of a scream, Morrible let out a cackle. Glinda looked up bewildered and clutched at her dagger. To protect herself she brought it back to Morrible’s neck. “ _What are you laughing at_?”

Morrible let her laugh die down and stared Glinda down. “ _Do it_.”

Glinda raised her dagger to Morrible’s cheek and made a cut. She gagged at the sight of what she had done and threw the blade away with shaking hands. Morrible was doing nothing but stand frozen under her stunning spell and still she was mocking her.

“ _How can you enjoy torturing people_?!” Glinda yelled hysterically through her tears. “How can you live with _that many deaths_ to your name?”

“They weren’t lives worth savoring.” 

Glinda launched at her and gripped her throat. Her fingertips felt every muscle in Morrible’s neck tighten. The air in her lungs slowly cut off. Glinda repressed another gag as tears burnt in her eyes. “HOW CAN YOU ENJOY _THIS_?!” 

Morrible looked at her starkly and took a shallow breath. “Kill me now.”

Glinda felt herself loosen her grip as soon as Morrible whispered it. Except her sentence was not a full statement. Morrible took another breath and the words chilled Glinda to her spine.

“Kill me now… and you’ll never know what happened to _your Elphie_.”


	19. Fly, My Pretty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning(s):** suicidal thoughts, self-harm (no cutting), panic attacks, physical and mental abuse (to a degree of _torture_ ) and the deep black mental hellhole that is depression and mental instability.
> 
> I need to emphasis that this is a really rough and raw chapter. If you’re currently not in a good mindstate: _close this chapter._ You can always choose to come back another time. If you’re struggling with depression and _especially_ if you have suicidal thoughts or a tendency to self harm, I want you to click away and come to [my blog](http://wickedlyqueer.tumblr.com/) instead; I will summarize the chapter for you. You don’t need to read about the hell that you’re already going through. Your safety comes first _always._

The moment her body hit the water it felt like she got spliced open in two. Her skin sizzled and high screeches escaped her throat. Elphaba gasped for air, but choked on water instead. Her lungs burnt. She was going to die. 

With her arms she tried to mow through and get a grip on the stream, but it only led to more splashes in her own face. She peered up to the bridge and saw a dire-looking Glinda wrestle to get on the ledge. Elphaba wanted to yell her name, but more water entered her throat. A drop of water that had been hanging on her eyelash fell down into her eye and she blinked harshly to get it out.

Through blurry vision she had lost Glinda out of her line of vision. Her heart sank. Elphaba held her breath and sunk to the bottom. As she slowly suffocated and lost consciousness, four hands grabbed her and pulled her away.

\--

Elphaba opened her eyes. She was lying on a cold, wet ground with pieces of straw stuck to her cheek. Before her were metal bars, the only flame lighting the cell was flickering behind it. She got up to see her prison better. She was completely alone. Besides some straw that served as her bed and a bucket there was nothing but dark, wet bricks surrounding her. The air was similar to the humidity in the Court of Miracles. Was she underground again? 

Her skin was a screaming fire. A wetness sticking to her skin. She was wearing the clothes she had drowned in. She grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head and threw it in the farthest corner. That’s when she noticed her hands were full of blisters. They had made tiny cuts in her skin and drops of blood dripped away. 

Elphaba looked down, she had lost her shoes in the struggle with the river. Her drenched pants were sticking uncomfortable to her legs. She decided against throwing them away too, her exposed chest already made her feel vulnerable enough. Instead, she ripped off a good chunk of the fabric up until her knees. Screaming out of pain as her open hands touched the wet cloth.

She shuddered a breath. The removal of the clothes made it slightly less uncomfortable. Though there was no way she could stop the burning sensation of her skin. Not without any of her ointments. She resisted the urge to scratch, no matter how impossible it was. 

She walked around the cell and kicked over a cup. The liquid spilled across the ground and Elphaba jumped away, in fear it was water. She squeezed her eyes to see better in the dark. Besides the wooden cup was a plate with food. She refused to touch it.

Hours must’ve passed until Elphaba heard the distinct clicking of heels. Morrible entered her line of vision.

“So you _did_ survive. I was worried there for a moment the river would kill you before I had the chance.” 

Morrible selected the right key and opened the door to the cell. It gave Elphaba enough time to dig through the mush her brain had become and throw a biting remark. “If I knew I had a choice I would’ve prefered the river.”

“Pity,” Morrible said as she entered the cell and locked the door. “I have more field expertise.”

Morrible walked closer, but in the dark didn’t notice the plate of food left on the ground and stepped into it. She tutted. “You haven’t even touched your food.”

“Could be Animal meat. I’d rather starve.”

At that, the corner of Morrible’s mouth turned into a smirk. “Dying for your principles. You’re a delight.”

Elphaba felt herself step back as Morrible slowly circled around her, like a predator testing its prey.

“Here I thought Glinda had much power, but _you_ , my dear. I have never seen such raw talent. You are a rough diamond begging to be polished.”

Elphaba narrowed her eyes. “I don’t even beg to the Unnamed God, what makes you think I will to you?”

Morrible halted her step. Her eyes were focused, but she gave no reply. Elphaba felt her body tense up, but she did not know why. Morrible’s fingers moved slightly and it became difficult to breathe. Her muscles moved against her own will, and slowly Elphaba’s body lowered to the ground. “How..?”

Her knees hit the ground and the energy shot to her upper body forcing her to bow down. Elphaba held eye contact until even her head was no longer in her control and her nose touched the stone ground. The forceful energy disappeared all at once and Elphaba had to catch her breath.

“It seems you’re begging _now_.”

Elphaba let out a cackle. A wheezing, painful, but menacing cackle. “Go fuck yourself in the deepest pit of hell.”

The words stung in her lungs, and she gasped for air. As her body was rising and falling, her eyes kept darting around Morrible’s face. They didn’t seem able to focus. All she could make out was the thin line of lips and those fishlike eyes examining Elphaba. 

Morrible was unimpressed. “Wrong answer.” 

She raised her hand and Elphaba felt the surge of magic forcing her to stand up. 

“Show me your power, little wicked witch of the west,” Morrible challenged her. “Break me.”

Elphaba grinned lopsidedly. “Gladly.” 

Morrible drew back her magic and took a defensive stand. Elphaba’s feet wobbled under the sudden weight of her own body. 

With a loose swick of her hand, Morrible casted a spell that had Elphaba crashing into the wall. The pain shot through her entire body and Elphaba put a hand around her aching stomach. She looked up, breathless. “Again.”

“Please, you’re no match for me, Miss Elphaba.”

“ _Again!_ ”

“You can’t even properly stand up.”

“Watch me!” Elphaba bit back. 

She hoisted herself back up, grunting as her body begged her to stay down. Had it always been this difficult to breathe? What spell should she -

She flung to the right, crashing into another wall. She heard a loud _crack_ as she made contact with hard brick and fell paralyzed to the ground.

“Hm.” Morrible’s disapproving eyes were burning on her as Elphaba’s mind went blank. “Disappointing.”

\--

She woke up and felt a shiver run down her spine. Her eyes adjusted to the dark, but she was alone in her cell. There were barely any sounds to speak of besides the occasional water drops dripping from the ceiling. Except now she heard more. Something faint but... familiar. Something that tugged at her heart.

_Elphie..._

“Glinda?”

Her voice echoed in emptiness. She got up and peered into the darkness. Elphaba felt sick to her stomach. There was nobody here.

\--

The next time she woke up she was no longer in her prison. Her arms hurt from being stretched out, but she couldn’t move them into another position. Iron chains were wrapped around her wrists. The smell of stagnant water filled the room. Elphaba looked down and saw her feet were dipped into the water. She couldn’t feel them. She tried to move her toes, but her nerves refused to respond. Only when she peered closer did she see her ankles were chained too. 

A Guard at the platform noticed she had woken up and hastened out of the metal door. A good while later, Morrible entered the dungeon, alone. 

“Don’t worry dear, you’re still in Southstairs. We’re just going to switch things up a bit,” Morrible’s voice echoed through the large space. “Believe it or not, this is the same river you almost drowned in. One of the benefits of locating my prison within the sewer system.”

Elphaba bit her tongue. The pain in her body was too consuming for her to form any remarks that didn’t end up in screaming her lungs out.

“No commentary? I thought you were such a competitive spirit. No matter, I’ll make it work,” Morrible said cunningly. “You must know by now magic is strongly linked with your emotions. Especially in moments of distress, magic has a habit of bursting out of you, whether you want to or not.”

Morrible pointed her hand behind her back and casted a spell at the rigging system. Chains started to rattle and Elphaba got pulled out of the water.

“So consider this an experiment of sorts. This torture is designed specifically to reveal your true potential.”

Elphaba rose higher and higher, until her head almost hit the ceiling. The mechanics stopped. Morrible gazed at Elphaba expectantly. “Fly, my pretty.”

Elphaba’s body was shaking. She couldn’t feel her legs or her arms. She wanted to be released from these chains and plunge into the water. Making sure this time she would drown for good.

“Come on! You did it before you can do it again.”

Elphaba didn’t want to. She wanted to retreat in her foggy mindscape. Be left alone for eternity. 

“Don’t you want to be free? Don’t you want to try and escape? Don’t you want to see Glinda?”

Elphaba’s eyes shot open at the sound of her name. She bristled and her trembling hands started to glow. 

“Yes, do it,” Morrible hissed. “Defy me!”

The knot in her body strangled the growing energy and Elphaba felt her magic fade away. 

The chains rattled and Elphaba was lowered until water reached her knees. She let out a scream of agony. Morrible turned her back on Elphaba.

“Pathetic.”

\--

Fuck you!

\--

“Elphie?”

She looked up and her breath was cut off. There she stood on the other side of the metal bars. A blue dress with frills for days. Light glittered around her eyes and in her hair. Oh that beautiful golden hair! Soft and in perfect curls. That warm and caring smile.

“Glinda?” her whole body was trembling, “Glinda, is that really you?”

Elphaba dared to step closer, but Glinda still felt just as far away, unreachable. “How did you get here?”

No response. Just smiles.

Her head started spinning. “Glinda, talk to me.”

Glinda shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t do this, Elphie.” Tears formed in her eyes and she stepped back and turned around.

“No!” Elphaba reached for her, but it was too late. “Don’t leave! _Glinda!_ ”

\--

Glinda betrayed her last night. No, she would never betray her. Glinda would never - This was Morrible’s fault. This was Glinda’s fault. No, this was her _own_ fault.

These fucking mind tricks! Stop it Elphaba! Morrible is fucking with you! No! Glinda was here! She really was! She felt so real. She looked so real. 

Her heart was bursting in her throat and her breaths became short. Elphaba pressed her head in her hands.

_What was happening?_

\--

What was that noise? So loud. So unnecessary. Could the world just _stop_? For one fucking second? Was that too much to fucking ask? Was it so fucking impossible to get some fucking silence for one goddamn moment? Was that so fucking hard? Was that too fucking much to ask? You know what is too fucking much? Everything. Fuck everything. Fuck it all!

\--

Her swollen feet dipped in the ice cold water. The only sensation in her body. 

Kill me.

Opened eyes? Let me die. No light? Body die on me. Lost sight? I beg you. Do it. _Kill me_. Kill me.

“KILL ME!”

Her voice died down in the empty dungeon. 

_Please_ …

\--

“Glinda?”

She opened her eyes as footsteps approached her. The person was too tall to be Glinda. Too old too. Too masculine. He had a hood on, she could barely make out his face. Except the lifelines that were wedged deep into his forehead. He put her immediately on edge.

“What do you want?” Elphaba barked.

The man stayed silent.

“Come gawk at the green prisoner? Is that it? Look at your prize? Well, here I fucking am! Take a good long look you _motherfucker_.”

“It must be true,” the man mumbled to himself.

“What did you say?” Elphaba threw herself at bars of the cell, the man did not move a muscle. He did not scare away. They held eye contact for a long time. 

“You’re mine.”

Elphaba spat in his face. “Fuck you, I’m not your prisoner.”

The man did not blink. “But you are mine.”

\--

“Father?”

She woke up from a terrible dream. Frexspar wasn’t here. She felt sick. It was just her subconscious referring to him as her father, Elphaba reminded herself. He had betrayed her. Lied to her. He had done _this_ to her.

He didn’t deserve anything. He was a liar. He abused her. He betrayed her. He hurt her. He was dead to her. She repeated the words over and over again as a mantra. 

_Abuser. Liar. Manipulator._

It had to be true. It _had_ to be true. Words were true. Repeat the words and they must come true. 

\--

“Had a good night of sleep I see.”

Elphaba opened her eyes. Heels. Morrible’s voice. Stone. Fuck, she had slept on the floor. Her back ached like seven hells smashed together. 

“I brought you food,” Morrible shoved her a warm meal. It looked luxurious; it even had fresh vegetables. No meat was detectable. The drink she put next to it had a sweet smell, so it couldn’t be water. 

It had to be a lie.

“Are you going to poison me now?” Her voice was weak and had completely dried out.

“No.” Morrible said almost bored. “Those aren’t my orders. Eat.”

She couldn’t move.

“And don’t bother starving yourself. I will force feed you if necessary.”

Morrible was about to walk away, but Elphaba caught her attention just in time.

“What… What are you doing to me?” she breathed out exhausted.

Morrible gave her a pitying look that mocked her. “Oh darling, I’m not the one you’re fighting against.”

\--

Stop it. Can it stop? When does it stop? These thoughts are slowly killing me from the inside. So stop it. Stop thinking. How do you stop thinking? Can we even stop thinking? It needs to stop. Somehow. In any way. Shape. Form. I can’t take it anymore. I want to stop feeling like this. STOP! For once! I need it to stop. For the love of god _S T O P!!!_

…

..

.

Why can’t it stop?

\--

Quiet. Listen. Yes, listen. Distract yourself and listen. What could be heard? Drips. Water. There had to be water near. Avoid the water. What else? Footsteps. Far away. A guard was making their round. 

More?

No. Too tired. Nothing more. 

\--

Can’t.

Can’t.

Can’t.

Can’t.

Can’t.

Can’t.

Can’t.

Can’t.

\--

The hooded old man whispered to her. 

Her eyes went wide. “... No, y-you’re lying.”

“You too must live with it now.” That was all he said before he turned away.

“COWARD!” Elphaba yelled after him. “YOU FUCKING COWARD! FACE ME! YOU CAN’T JUST SAY SHIT LIKE THAT AND MAKE A RUN FOR IT!”

It was dark. The man did not turn. He fastened his pace.

“COME BACK HERE AND FINISH WHAT YOU STARTED!!”

But The Coward never returned.

\--

Laying on ground. Again. Too tired. Was it possible to lay down _more_? Was it possible that the earth could fucking swallow you whole, so laying down would be less tiring than it was right now? 

That’d be nice.

\--

Water. Feet. Tired. Tired. Tired. 

\--

???? ???? ? ?? ? ??? ?

??? ?? ????????? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? 

??? ? ? ? ?

\--

Cold. Ground. Straw. Numb. Always numb.

Feel again. Anything. _Be_.

She got up and crashed her entire body into the wall. And again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again. 

Until the blood in her mouth lost its taste and the burning pain no longer felt like anything at all. 

\--

Water. Chains. Pain.

Punishment for trying to feel. Impossible to feel while chained.

Dammit.

\--

 

What if.

 

 

What if I...

 

 

 

Could……..

 

 

 

 

 

 

Too tired.

 

 

\--

“... I don’t know! Use those chains! Do _something_! Boq!”

“I can’t! I might pull wrong and let Elphie drown!”

“Fine. I’ll use my bubble.”

Sound. _Sounds_. Hovering. Hands touched her cheeks. Open eyes. 

Glinda. Glinda. Glinda. Why - why..?

“I don’t understand,” Elphaba trembled. “Why can’t I feel you?”

“You can’t..?” 

Tears. Glinda pressing her forehead against hers. “And now?”

“... No.” _Concentrate, dammit!_ “Maybe?”

“I’m real, Elphie.”

“No. No, you can’t be. You’re not real.”

“Trust me, Elphie.” Blue eyes in despair. “ _Please_.”

_I can’t!_

“Help me.”

“I am. If you let me. Please, Elphie, let me care for you.” 

\--

Warm. Soft..? Pillow! Bed. Glinda.

“Glinda?”

A squeeze. Intertwined hands.

“Hey you.”

Relief.

“Your surroundings are safe, Elphie. Get some more sleep. I’ll be watching over you.”

Tired. Oh so tired. 

But home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, you made it to the other side! :) Please watch this [cute video of a guitarist and their dog playing a song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rh781xao27A) before you continue your web journey. You need some happy thoughts and soft things right now.  
> 


	20. I Have Been Changed For Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning(s):** depiction of violence, mentions of death, lots of talk about trauma

Glinda stroked her thumb over Elphaba’s hand. Her skin no longer shone like emerald: it was pale, rough, and swollen. Glinda felt sick thinking back to how she had found her, hanging on chains with her legs deep under water. All those months Morrible had played her for a fool. While Glinda was mourning Elphaba, Morrible was torturing her.

There was a knock on the door and Boq entered. “You were right. The Palace is completely deserted save from those few Guards outside. It doesn’t seem like anyone has lived here in weeks.”

“Then Morrible was right. The Wizard must’ve fled,” Glinda said and cursed Morrible in her head for telling the truth. It didn’t give Glinda the moral high ground she so desperately craved. “But if The Wizard fled, why did she not take over this Palace?”

“Well, it would keep her from being a target, right? If she pretended The Wizard was still reigning she could remain invisible while holding all the power. You said she had magic?”

“Yes. I guess Morrible hid more than she ever revealed.”

Boq came further into the room and sat down at the opposite side of the double bed. 

Once they seized the Wizard’s Palace (which was only guarded by a total of three soldiers) Glinda rushed over to one of the guest rooms with Elphaba scooped up in her arms. The room was richly furnished with a grand bed, an on-suite bathroom and a reading corner with a ceiling-high bookcase. What was once the normal order of class differences now felt despicably unjust. 

“How is she?” Boq asked.

Glinda felt meek. “I wish I knew.”

Boq looked at her hesitantly, not quite sure if he should say what he was thinking. “I know we just saved her, but she’s been tortured for months. Her condition is far from stable. Try… just try not to cling at her too much for now, okay? She might-”

“Don’t.” Glinda stopped him at once. “Don’t tell me she’s going to die.”

“Glinda...”

“No. We both defied death. She’s not going to die after all that, I won’t let her.”

Boq smiled sadly. “That’s not up to you, I’m afraid.”

“She’s not going to die,” Glinda repeated insistently. 

Boq nodded and stood up from the bed. “I’m going to check up on Fiyero then. I can be back with some food later?”

“That’d be nice. Thank you, Boq.”

When the door clicked shut she registered he had left the room. Elphaba shivered and Glinda tucked her in blankets up till her neck. Under the covers she searched for Elphaba’s hand and felt the soft linen nightwear she had dressed her in. All that Elphaba had worn was a months’ old ripped open pants. Morrible hadn’t even had the decency to give her some prison garments. 

Elphaba stirred and Glinda looked up hopeful. Slowly, Elphaba blinked her eyes open. Hazily she looked around until she found Glinda. At the sound of her name Glinda teared up and squeezed Elphaba’s hand. It didn’t feel real but somehow it was. Elphaba was here beside her. 

“Hey you.”

\--

That night Elphaba became feverish. Glinda had fallen into a restless sleep when she startled awake the moment she heard Elphaba scream: “STOP! STOP! STOP!”

“Elphaba,” Glinda said and laid a hand on her shoulder. Elphaba didn’t notice the touch. “Elphie, you were dreaming. You’re safe. I’m here.”

“ _Oh fuck_ ,” Elphaba breathed out heavily and put her head in her hands. 

Glinda got Elphaba’s hair out of her face and stroked her back gently. “What happened? You were screaming to stop. Was it her?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s too much.”

Glinda frowned when she felt sweat in Elphaba’s neck. She laid a hand on her forehead. “You’re hot,” she said. “Lay down. I’ll get you some tea.”

“I don’t want-”

“Yes you do,” Glinda cut her off sharply. “You’re feeling sick.”

Glinda threw the blankets off of her and stepped into her slippers. She preferred not to leave Elphaba’s side but it was too late to wake anyone up at this hour. For the first time she understood what her Ama must’ve put up with all those years. She was such a demanding child and very unlike Elphaba, who refused any help.

After the water boiled and Glinda had added some herbs, she walked back to their room and handed over the cup. Despite her earlier protests Elphaba drank it gratefully and in two gulps. Glinda raised her eyebrows at that.

“You want more?” Glinda asked when Elphaba handed the cup back.

She shook her head and got deep under the covers. She fell back asleep in an instance. It was only briefly, but Glinda envied her. 

Glinda blew out the candle and tried desperately to fall asleep. After what happened today in the dungeons, she felt she’d never be able to rest again. The harder she pushed the thoughts away the louder they came crashing back. _No! Not again!_ She begged to herself, but her hands felt the strained veins under her fingertips like a memory. 

_Glinda dug her nails deeper into Morrible’s neck. Her face was turning purple._

_“What do you know!?” Glinda demanded, blood rushing to her ears. “TELL ME!”_

_“S-She lived,” Morrible slithered out. “My… prisoner.”_

_Glinda’s body was violently shaking. Two words was all it took. Her entire being was ripped in two. Inside she had fallen apart, outwards she demanded control. “WHERE?”_

_Morrible cackled softly with the little air she had left in her lungs. Saliva dribbled from her lips. Her eyes were bulging red._

_Glinda twisted her arms until she heard the_ snap _of Morrible’s neck and the last bit of air escaped her. Glinda opened her arms and Morrible’s lifeless body dropped to the floor._

Her stomach lurched at the memory and Glinda covered her mouth. She ran to the bathroom and threw up in the sink. Her body was shaking and she leaned on the cool surface to keep herself standing. 

When she looked up in the mirror she shuddered. The eyes of a murderer stared back. She hadn’t hesitated for a single moment and she had killed. She had killed another human being. A nasty, manipulating, taunting human, but a human nonetheless. 

Nobody knew. She told the boys the blast and the wall that fell on her killed Morrible. She couldn’t bring herself to tell what actually happened. There was already too much going on. She had to stay strong. For Elphaba. For everyone. 

She had to deal with this alone.

\-- 

Glinda did not sleep that night and was all too relieved when Elphaba woke up early by the light of the rising sun. 

“Morning Elphie. How are you feeling?”

Elphaba pondered hard over the question, her brow frowning as if she was just asked to explain how the existence of the Animals came to be. “I’m not sure.”

“Are you hungry?”

“No.” She was surer of that answer.

“Then lets freshen you up first and eat breakfast later.”

“That bad, huh?” She sounded grim but her mouth twitched in a smile. Glinda was glad that Morrible hadn’t completely crushed her quick wit.

She threw the blankets off her and went into the bathroom. “Crope delivered some of your creams and ointments when you were asleep.” Glinda checked the shelf and grabbed some flasks and a towel. 

A loud thud came from the bedroom and Elphaba groaned painfully. Glinda dropped everything and rushed back into the room. Elphaba was lying face down on the ground. 

“By Oz, Elphaba! What happened?” Glinda kneeled beside her and put an arm around her back for support.

“Going... to the bathroom.” She let out another groan when she leaned on her feet. “ _FUCK!_ ”

Glinda helped her sit on the bed. It was only then that she noticed why Elphaba had fallen down. In the whirlwind of yesterday she didn’t have time to see it. Elphaba’s feet had completely blackened.

Glinda gasped in shock. “Lurline almighty what did she _do_ to you?!” 

“It’s fine,” Elphaba grunted callously. With her arms as support she stiffly swung her legs onto the bed. 

“This...” Glinda trembled as she rested her hand on the burnt skin. “This isn’t _fine_ , Elphaba.” 

“Where are the oils?”

“No. You don’t get to do that,” she was furious. “You’re not allowed to - locking me out of your life. Not again.”

Glinda left behind a speechless Elphaba and gathered the oils and towels she had dropped. Without any complaints Elphaba let herself get undressed. Glinda studied her body for the most damaged parts. Her feet were definitely the worst. Her wrists didn’t look that good either, but it wasn’t the same as the overexposed water burns. 

“In that room did she… did she chain you often?”

“I can’t remember much,” Elphaba mumbled apologetically. “But yeah I think so.”

Glinda exhaled loudly. Just imagining Elphaba tortured in that awful place sent her anxieties spiraling. That moment when she saw Elphaba hanging chained in that water was forever burnt on her memory. 

She unscrewed the top on one of the bottles and smeared the substance on Elphaba’s feet. 

“Can you feel this?”

Elphaba shook her head. 

As suspected, she definitely had lost her sensations in her feet. 

“Let me know when you feel something,” Glinda said as she glided her hand higher up Elphaba’s leg. 

“Stop,” Elphaba said once Glinda had reached her knee.

“Here?” Glinda asked and lightly pinched her knee once more.

Elphaba nodded. “I felt something. It’s not a lot though.”

“It’s something.” 

They continued this on the rest of her body though Elphaba squirmed uncomfortably at certain parts, not out of pain but out of hatred for her own body. A small comfort was that not all nerves in her body had died. Most were severely damaged though and Glinda had to pinch her multiple times before Elphaba could conclude if she felt something or not. 

Afterwards, Glinda wordlessly embalmed the rest of Elphaba’s body to clean her skin and helped put back on her nightwear.

“I disappoint, don’t I?”

Elphaba said the words out of the blue, after such a long stretch of silence Glinda had to rewind the words in her head before she could make sense of them. 

“What do you mean?”

“Compared to your memories.” she clarified, “The real me must be a pain in the ass compared to the Elphaba you mourned for months.”

Glinda stopped. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever think-”

“I don’t blame you. Mourning means reconstructing. Means forgetting the times we drove each other insane. Highlighting the best moments until it’s a hazy string of glorified memories.”

The accusation was frustrating. “Mourning you wasn’t _exactly_ a daily feast.”

“I’m not saying that,” Elphaba continued calmly. “I’m saying you were in the middle of a process you now need to reverse. That must be confusing and heartbreaking. Admit it, in some ways it would’ve been less complicated for you if I stayed dead.”

“Seeing you drown was the hardest -” her voice cracked. “How _dare_ you say I want you dead again?!”

“No, not again. Continuously. I would never want you to go through _this_. To see you in pain because I’m not who you tried to cherish in your mind.”

“So what are you saying? I should keep pretending you died? Well I’m not going to! You can't make me!”

Elphaba must’ve known she’d cross a definite line when she said: “Glinda, you know I’m only a broken mishap of the person you once fell in love with.”

But Glinda could not hear the end of the sentence, because she had already walked out of the room.

\--

Elphaba screamed in her dreams often. It became a regular occurence. The first week she was unconscious most of the time to such an extent Glinda got afraid she might slip into a coma. It was a complete contrast from the little sleep Elphaba used to get. The few times Elphaba was awake she digested a tremendous amount of food before falling back asleep. Their argument of before was left weirdly undiscussed and soon forgotten.

Glinda no longer left her side. She couldn’t. Her anxieties had taken control of her body and the simple thought Elphaba would be gone if Glinda would as much as turn around haunted her. At night Glinda did not sleep unless her body begged her too. Then, when dreams turned into nightmares turned into memories, she woke up with panting breath and a racing heartbeat. Elphaba was asleep often enough to never notice.

More than once Boq had begged her to get out of the room, even if just for dinner, but Glinda refused. He warned her how unhealthy her habits had become, and in response she had locked the door before him. 

Every single last space inside her mind was occupied with Elphaba. Nothing felt real but somehow it _was_. Elphaba lived. So did she. And this time nobody in the world would take that away from her. She didn’t want to experience that emptiness she felt in the months she thought Elphaba had died all over again. Glinda knew she would not be able to bear that a second time. So she stayed.

The world began and ended in these quarters. 

\--

Glinda mindlessly stroked Elphaba’s skin once she thought she was asleep. It felt wrong; the scars of burnt skin was nothing like the smooth skin it once was.

“Hm?” Elphaba peered curiously at Glinda.

“Sorry,” she lifted her hand. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t, I didn’t even notice it. Something wrong?”

Glinda had forgotten how easily Elphaba could see right through her. “Your skin was always so sensitive. I only had to brush my fingertips over it and…” her sentence trailed off. 

Elphaba tried for a smile, but only got as far as a grimace. “If only I could shed my skin like a snake.”

“Have you ever wanted that?” Glinda asked before thinking. “Shed your skin and hoping it would come out a different colour?”

The reply did not come out at all which was an even more telling answer. So Glinda kissed her, and nestled in close, so Elphaba _had_ to know she was loved and no words had to be spoken at all. 

\--

Time was repetitive. Weeks passed before Elphaba was awake more than asleep. She was still mostly bedridden and whenever she needed to get up Glinda had to support her to move around the room. Boq had also brought a cane so Elphaba had something to lean on, but that was only for the smallest of distances. If she wanted to get out of the room, she would need a wheelchair. 

Under the covers, Glinda was enjoying a nice afternoon read about the architecture of the Palace when an object flew across the room. The book bounced off a wall and fell open. Elphaba was seething. 

“More Wizard propaganda?”

One of the few things they could do to pass time was reading. Unfortunately the literature available in their room was a tad - oh, how to put it? - limited. 

“No.” 

Elphaba let out a frustrating groan and gripped at her head.

Glinda laid her book to the side and rubbed Elphaba’s back. “What’s wrong?”

“Forget it.”

“Elphaba.”

“I can’t… focus. On the words written. I haven’t been able for a while. Nothing sticks. In my brain, I mean.”

“Maybe it’s these books,” Glinda tried, “They’re drenched with ridiculous propaganda.”

“It’s not that and you know it. It’s my fault.”

“How? How could this possibly be your fault?”

“It’s _my_ brain so it’s _my_ fault. The only thing I liked about myself turned to mush. I’m fucking useless.”

Elphaba wrapped her arms around her legs. She looked so small. Glinda hesitated. “When you talk yourself down, do you know it hurts me too?”

Elphaba craned her head and put her chin on her knees, curious and patient.

Glinda took a breath. “Remember that fight we had weeks ago? What am I talking about you were asleep most of that period you probably-”

“I remember.”

“Right,” Glinda exhaled. “You were essentially saying my life would be better off without you. And I get that in your own way, you tried to cause me less harm. But you were insinuating you were not worth my _love_. Do you know how painful that was to hear? As if my feelings are an investment and I should spare the work and humiliation. Put my time somewhere else.”

She reached for Elphaba’s hand. “And I need you to understand I don’t _want_ to be anywhere else. You’re not getting rid of me so easily.” Glinda looked over worried. “Unless of course you want me to.”

Elphaba squeezed her hand. “I want you here. Trust me.”

Glinda’s heart leapt at her response. “And I get there are thing you don’t like about yourself. Oz knows there are things I don’t like about myself. But that should no longer be your excuse, okay? I love you so much.” She squeezed her nose playfully. “And I’d much rather have you ‘broken’ than dead.”

Elphaba grinned. Glinda closed in and just before their lips met said: “You got that pushed through your stubborn skull?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” 

She wrapped her hands around her neck and drowned her in kisses.

\--

“Glinda, when was the last time you took care of yourself?”

She looked up from her readings. “Hm?”

“All this time we’ve been here I’ve never seen you do your makeup. Or take a bath.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Are you saying I smell?”

“I’m saying, when is the last time you took care of yourself?”

The sincerity in her voice made Glinda stop in her tracks. “I…” to her own shock she couldn’t remember. “Don’t worry about me, your recovery is more important.”

“No it’s not.”

“ _Elphie_ …” Glinda said with a warning look.

“I’m not talking myself down, honest. But you’ve taken such good care of me these past few weeks. Don’t forget to look after yourself.”

Elphaba let her hand wander towards Glinda’s neck. Glinda’s eyes fluttered shut. The rough and cold skin against her neck made her shiver. 

“Now that you mention it you could do with some perfume.”

Her eyes snapped open. “ _Elphie_!”

Elphaba chuckled. “I’m serious, my sweet. You’re scaring me a bit. Have you even _looked_ in a mirror since our arrival?” 

Her hand traced up to Glinda’s locks. “When is the last time you curled that beautiful hair of yours? And those eyes?” She touched the bags that had collected under her eyes. “They should sparkle.”

Glinda took her hand and brought it down. “I’ll work on it, okay?”

Instead of dropping the subject like Glinda wanted, Elphaba caught a glimpse of Glinda’s hands and tutted. “When is the last time you touched up your nails, hm?”

In a flash, Glinda was standing in the underground dungeons. Her nails digging into Morrible’s neck.

She wriggled her hand loose. “Elphie, stop.”

“What? You care about these things, always have. You never left our tent in the Court without at least some lipstick. You’ve been neglecting yourself. Why?”

“I haven’t.”

Elphaba frowned. “Why are you lying to me?”

Glinda looked away. “I just want to be with you, is that a crime?”

“No. It’s not,” she responded quietly. “I’m sorry.”

The sting of guilt in Glinda’s stomach was unbearable. “No, you’re right. I’ll draw a bath once you’re asleep.”

“Don’t be ridiculous that could take hours. Just do it now.”

“I just want to stay with you a little longer.”

“I’ll be here when you’re back,” Elphaba promised. When Glinda didn’t respond she laid a hand on her chin and ushered her to meet her eyes. “Hey, what’s frightening you so?”

“Nothing, I’m just being silly. I’ll go clean up now, okay?”

Elphaba looked wary. “Sure.”

Glinda got up and gathered some clothes from the closet. The springs of the bed creaked and Elphaba had lifted herself up, a cane in her hand. 

“Oz, what are you doing?”

“Just to the bookcase,” Elphaba pointed at it. “Nothing more, I promise.”

She leaned heavily on the cane and her body trembled from the effort. With slow and small steps she resembled the speed of a turtle.

“I can just grab a book for you?”

“No. Let me do this,” Elphaba said determinedly. “I need to know I can still do this.”

“Alright,” Glinda said, knowing arguing would be pointless. “Let me know when you need help,” and added under her breath. “You stubborn thing.”

Elphaba winked. “You know it.”

Glinda rolled her eyes adoringly. When she headed for the bathroom Elphaba managed to catch her hand and pressed a chaste kiss on her fingers. “Take your time, okay? I'll be here.”

A good hour later she walked out, a towel wrapped around her hair and in freshly cleaned clothes, she felt fresher than she had in weeks. Elphaba sat in the chair next to the bookcase, all sorts of books scattered across the floor. She looked relieved for company.

“Did a tornado pass in here?” 

“Oh these things?” Elphaba shrugged nonchalantly. “No idea how they got there.” 

“Really?” Glinda teased. “So that cane there lying on the floor doesn’t belong to you?”

“Never seen that thing before in my entire life.”

“Oh dear. Well, since you have an airtight alibi I suggest we both head to bed and hope the perpetrator will clean up this mess while we’re asleep.”

Glinda hopped on the mattress and settled in with her book. It took a whole fifteen minutes before Elphaba crack. 

“ _Fine_! Okay fine. I’m an idiot. I didn’t have the strength for a return trip. Happy now?”

Glinda feigned ignorance. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Elphaba groaned exasperatedly. “Please don’t make me play the long game. I’m stuck in this chair. Have been ever since you locked yourself in that bathroom.”

“So what you’re saying is…” Glinda motioned with her hand to continue.

“That you were right.”

“And?”

“And I should’ve called for help when I needed it,” Elphaba cited like a child forced to apology.

Glinda jumped back up satisfied and came to Elphaba's rescue. “Okay, but seriously. How did all those books get on the floor?”

“I…” Elphaba looked mortified and muttered. “I used the cane to try and grab some books and it kind of backfired.”

Glinda laughed at the image. “You poor thing.”

She scooped up Elphaba and carried her over to the bed. She planted a kiss in her hair. Elphaba looked at her with such awe and admiration Glinda’s cheeks turned pink.

“What?”

Elphaba shook her head unbelievably, waving off a memory of a time gone by. “How could I _ever_ have accused you of being selfish?”

\--

Elphaba grew ill once more. Her fever skyrocketed overnight and took hold for a week. Glinda kept busy bringing her tea and forcing it down her throat.

“You need to stay hydrated. Just a sip before you go to sleep.”

“I’m not thirsty.” Elphaba covered her mouth when she talked. Glinda had done a sneak attack before and she hadn’t forgotten it since.

“Lurline almighty, you absolute _child_ ,” Glinda said and wrestled to get Elphaba’s hand away from her mouth. “You are burning up you need to drink!”

“Watch out!” Elphaba yelped. 

Just before the tea could spill over Glinda’s hand Elphaba smashed it away. Hot liquid spilled over the blankets and sizzled on green skin.

“Are you alright?” Glinda asked worried.

“I barely feel anything,” Elphaba said to her own surprise. “Guess my messed up skin is good for something.”

Glinda reached for a towel and dried Elphaba’s hand. “I don’t want to say _I told you so_ , but if you hadn’t thrown such a hissyfit…”

“I’m just sick of drinking is all. I’m not even thirsty.”

“You haven’t peed since the early afternoon. Which means your body needs the fluids. I’m not doing this to torture you, y’know.”

“You aren’t?” Elphaba joked. 

“I’ll let you in on a secret, dearest. When your girlfriend goes above and beyond to take care of you, you do _not_ mock her. There,” Glinda folded the towel and pecked Elphaba’s hand. “All better.”

“A kiss from my favorite nurse. I knew I liked this place for a reason.”

“Let me just swap these blankets for clean ones.”

Elphaba followed her movements with her eyes. Glinda handed Elphaba two new blankets and dumped the dirty ones a corner. “Don’t you need to clean them?”

“Tomorrow,” Glinda said and she settled back into bed. “It’s getting late.”

“I always liked the night,” Elphaba said promptly, her tone dark. “It’s like going against nature’s order. Nobody’s around so you’re stripped from performing. Suddenly, all of life’s mysteries are within a hand’s reach.”

Glinda propped her head on her elbow. “You sound like a poet.”

“I’ve become that sentimental, have I? My fever must be skyrocketing again.”

She laid a hand on Elphaba's forehead and smiled. “It has actually gone down.”

“The fever of the heart, I mean.”

“Only you’d ever describe it as a fever.”

“I can’t really understand it any other way.”

Glinda mustered a smile and kissed her goodnight. Elphaba had one thing right: once the candles were out Glinda no longer had to conceal her disappointment. Her heart wrung in silence. Unable to grasp why she so badly needed Elphaba to change the way she loved. Or why she could only ever describe it as if it were a disease.

\--

There were good days and there were bad days. Overall the period of good days grew longer, but whenever a bad day happened it felt to Glinda like an eternity. So when Elphaba had four bad days in a row, Glinda was fully miserable. Every inquiry was met with a short grumpy reply. Every loving gesture was shrugged off. She no longer knew how to respond.

It was in the middle of Elphaba’s afternoon nap when she tossed and turned in discomfort. She whimpered: “No! Stop!”

Adrenaline kicked in and Glinda, who had been reading on the other side of the room, ran towards the bed, knees crashing into carpet. “Elphie! Elphie wake up!” 

“No! NO! DON’T! _STOP IT_!”

“ELPHIE!” 

Elphaba jolted awake and panted. The room came into view before her eyes and slowly her brain started to realize she was no longer being tortured. Glinda clutched onto the mattress from the rush of anxiety.

“You’re safe, Elphie. You’re safe with me,” she reached out to her.

Elphaba waved off her hand and mumbled something. She threw the blankets over her shoulder and faced away from Glinda.

“You were screaming. You had a nightmare.” Glinda said to Elphaba’s back.

“It happens.”

“It’s gotten worse.”

“Leave me _alone_.”

The harshness in her voice made Glinda flinch. “But-”

“Just go.”

Bitter and confused, Glinda brushed the dust off her knees and walked out of the room. She wandered around the Palace for a while until her memories were driving her up a wall. When she returned to their room, Elphaba was lying down, but very much awake.

Glinda stood silently in the doorway, waiting until Elphaba finally noticed her. Glinda sniffed and her voice sounded small and upset. “Please tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

Elphaba looked bewildered. “You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Then why do you act like this? Why do you brush me off and- and it feels _exactly_ like back in the bell tower when you crawled into your shell and if-if I could have reached you then I could’ve stopped your execution so _please_ tell me what to do so I don’t lose you all over again.”

Through blurry tears, Glinda saw Elphaba reach for her. She took her hand and let her be guided towards the bed. Green arms wrapped around her body. “I'm sorry, Glinda. I had no idea.”

Elphaba held her close and let Glinda cry as long as she needed to. Once the worst wave of emotion had past she could speak the words that had been bottled up inside of her. “It’s so scary. I feel so _powerless_. You go through hell day and night and I can’t even do anything to make you feel better.”

“Yes you do. Look at me, Glinda. Yes you do. You make me eat. You help me get clean. You get me in a routine. These things help me. More than you’d ever know.”

Through her sobs Glinda managed a smile. “No offense, but why are you acting like such a jerk then?”

Elphaba chuckled shortly. “I guess I deserved that. I’ll try to work on it.” She took Glinda’s hand and stroked her thumb against her knuckles. “When I lash out… I really don’t mean to. Not towards you at least. But sometimes, I do need my space. We’ve been hauled up in this cubicle for what? Two months? I’m sure you need some space from me too.”

Glinda wasn’t too sure about that, because having space also meant other thoughts occupying it.

“But I think it’s good, don’t you?” Elphaba met her eyes. “I think it means progress. I know I’m having a couple of rough days, but overall, I’ve gotten better. That nightmare I had? I can’t even remember it.”

“You were screaming.”

“I know, I know. But the images didn’t stick this time. I’ve already forgotten what it was about. I think you got the worst of it, I must sound so terrifying.”

“Not you,” Glinda said. “The memories that are tormenting you, _that’s_ what terrifies me.”

Elphaba nodded. “I can’t help the memories, but I will try to communicate my needs better to you. Because trust me Glinda, without your help I would’ve never come this far in my recovery. So whatever it is you’re doing, it’s working.” 

\--

It was nighttime when the floor began to shake. Books flung out of the case and fell down on the floor. Chairs got steered into different directions. Decorative paintings snapped off the walls and a vase hovered dangerously on the edge of the desk until it fell down and scattered into pieces. A high-pitched scream, begging for her life, on top of all the chaos.

Elphaba’s eyes shot open. Her eyes darted around to see what was happening. Next to her lay Glinda, pearls of sweat dripping from her face and her hands glowing.

“Glinda!” Elphaba tried to shake her awake. “Glinda! What are you doing? Wake up!”

“ _GO AWAY_!” In her unconscious state she tried to push Elphaba away.

“IT’S ME! ELPHABA!” 

The angry scowl across her face lessened and Glinda’s eyes fluttered open in panic. The glow around her hands dimmed as she slowly realized she was not wherever her subconscious had believed her to be. The room stopped spinning.

“Hell and Oz,” Elphaba breathed out exhausted. “Since when can you do magic _asleep_?”

“I… I c-can’t,” Glinda stammered. She looked around the room in shock. “What did I do?”

“It felt like an earthquake,” Elphaba looked her over. “Are you okay?”

“Just a bad dream.”

Elphaba scoffed. “Look me in the eye and say that again.”

Fear was written across her face. “It.. It was just -” she broke down and buried her face into her hands. “I… I c-can’t.”

“What’s been eating you up from the inside?” Elphaba shuffled closer and stroked her back. “I know something has to, so please just tell me what’s hurting you so much.”

Glinda only sobbed harder. “I’m-m the one... I d-don’t deserve good things.”

“Says who?” 

“Me.” She wiped her tears away with her elbow. “I’m n-not a good person.”

Elphaba worried how convinced Glinda sounded when she said it. “What makes you say that?”

Glinda shook her head. “I can’t tell y-you.”

“Are you afraid I’ll leave you? Because I won’t. Glinda however bad this is, bottling it up it’s only going to get worse. Today it’s a magical earthquake in a room, tomorrow it’s the entire Palace. Just look at your hands,” Elphaba took her by the arm so Glinda had to hold out her hand. It was shaking so hard it was as if the earthquake was continuing in there. “You can’t go on like this.”

“I know,” Glinda sniffed. “B-But it’s already d-done.”

“Then you should tell me. If it’s already done it won’t matter.”

“You don’t u-understand. I can still feel it in my f-fingers,” Glinda swallowed thickly. “Everyt-thing happened s-so fast. There was n-no other way. She was taunting me and...”

It slowly dawned on her. “Morrible?”

Glinda choked for air.

“Easy. Easy now,” Elphaba said. “Deep breath. Inhale.” 

“I-I never w-wanted -” Glinda turned pale.

“You don’t have to explain further,” Elphaba said and laid a hand on Glinda’s stomach. “Breathe from here. Inhale.” Glinda’s stomach blew up like a balloon and Elphaba slowly counted down from five. “Okay now exhale. Good. Try to relax. Now inhale again.”

They repeated this until Glinda had considerably calmed down and the panic had faded away.

“Better?”

Glinda nodded. “Where did you learn that?”

“Back in Southstairs I, uhm, I felt like I was dying a lot. Reminding myself I could still breathe helped me,” Elphaba remembered gloomingly. “The stomach-thing I knew from back when I still sang in sermons. _Not the throat, from the stomach, Fabala._ ”

Glinda rested her head on Elphaba’s shoulder. Elphaba wrapped her arm around her and kissed the side of her head. “I don’t know what it’s like, but what you’ve done… You saved my life. And Fiyero’s. Hell, all of us. You got us _all_ out of there alive. That’s no small feat.” 

A shiver ran down Glinda’s spine.

“Oz is better off without her. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Glinda mumbled. “I just wish it wasn’t me who…”

“I know.” Elphaba held her tighter. “I can’t believe you kept this to yourself for so long. Why?”

“You needed me.”

“And _you_ needed me.”

Glinda met her eye, and for the first time in months the tension she had been holding in her body faded a bit. Knowing full well the roads ahead of them were going to be long and painful. But neither of them needed to be strong; they just needed to be.


	21. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I started Walls of Sanctuary in a time I was severely depressed and still on waiting lists. I wanted to write an epic adventure like Hunchback is, and it was a perfect opportunity to explore very dark themes like prejudice, genocide and death. But more than anything, WOS was always going to be about coping. Like Elphaba and Glinda are struggling through their lives and try to cope with their mental illness and trauma, so was writing WOS a coping mechanism for me._
> 
> _Now, a year and a half later (exactly one year since I published it on AO3!) I’m in the midst of my therapy and already feeling so much better, I can finally present to you the epilogue! I want to thank everyone who has come along with me on this journey. And an especially big thanks to all those who have left nice comments! It was the fuel that kept me going._
> 
> _I’m already plotting a new and very different gelphie AU I’m extremely excited about but before that I’ll be publishing a dumb fluffy gelphie dutch hsau I’m having a blast writing. If you want you can follow me on[Tumblr](http://wickedlyqueer.tumblr.com) for all my other shenanigans there. If you haven't seen it yet, I did an animated 'cover' for every chapter I'd love for you to [check out](https://wickedlyqueer.tumblr.com/tagged/wos-chapter-covers/chrono). And once more, thank you so much for reading and enjoying this story. <3 _

The gentle scribbles of Elphaba’s quill filled Glinda’s ears and pulled her out of her dreams. Under the blankets Glinda rolled to her other side. The sound made Elphaba look up. “Oh, I thought you were already asleep. Is the light bothering you?”

Glinda shook her head. “It’s late, Elphie. Did you have a nightmare? Oh, you’re writing.”

“No nightmares this time, I’m looking over Fiyero’s speech for tomorrow. Making some notes. Don’t worry, I’m almost done.”

“Hm, that way you can still be a part of the inaugurations. That’s nice,” Glinda mumbled and yawned.

“It’s for the best. As you know I was never much for public festivities. I’d much rather have my voice be part of the written word.”

Her voice had a calming effect on Glinda, and she almost fell back into slumber until Elphaba asked her a question. “What about you?”

“Hm?”

“Well, I can imagine you're having conflicting feelings about tomorrow. After all, you sacrificed yourself for the democracy we’re building right now, but the public thinks you betrayed them one way or another. Your name has been dragged through so many puddles of mud nobody knows what to believe anymore. Even within the Court mentions of your name leads to quite the controversy.”

Though Elphaba sounded worried, Glinda no longer shared these anxieties. The people she loved most knew the truth and were still by her side. Why should the rest have to matter?

“My darling…” Glinda started, but along the way she lost the thoughts she wanted to express and drifted away.

Elphaba smiled fondly as she noticed Glinda had fallen back to sleep. She kissed her fingertips and rested them in Glinda’s curls.

“Fresh dreams, my dearest.”

\--

Elphaba wheeled her way along the marble floor. Glinda kept a steady pace next to her. 

“You came!” Boq jumped up in joy at the sight of them. He was dressed in black tie for the occasion.

“Of course. We wanted to wish you good luck,” Glinda said and hugged him.

“It’s just a ceremony. The real work will start tomorrow,” Boq answered diplomatically, but there was a bright pink color of excitement in his cheeks.

“One of the five representatives of Munchkinland. That’s no small task,” Elphaba said. “There’s no doubt in my mind you’ll do great.”

“Don’t get sappy on me now, _Miss Elphie_ ,” Boq teased her.

At that exact moment, as a blessing from above, Fiyero walked into the hallway. “Boq we need to - Oh! How lovely to see you two here.”

“Don’t act so surprised!” Glinda said. “Just because we can’t join the festivities doesn’t mean we don’t care.”

Fiyero smiled kindly. “And thank you for your last minute notes, Elphaba. They were very helpful.”

“Not at all. I’m honored to be involved in the build up of this democracy.”

“Absolutely! But we cannot let the representatives keep waiting - Boq?”

“Right!” he said. “We can all have dinner together tonight?”

“Sounds great.”

They waved as the boys rushed back into the room where the inauguration of all twenty five representatives took place. Five for each district, with a mandatory of at least one Animal representative per district. That had been Elphaba’s idea.

“You feel like taking a walk in the garden?” Glinda asked. 

“Sure.”

Glinda turned Elphaba’s chair around and held the door open that led to the garden. It was a beautiful clear day with a nice late summer breeze. The Palace’s gardens were enormous and though Elphaba and Glinda had been walking more and more in it, they still hadn’t managed to cover all ground. 

Elphaba stumbled to move forward; the gravel made it difficult to get a grip on the wheels.

“Need me to push again?”

“Please.”

For a while they walked in perfect silence, with the birds tweeting cheerfully and the rumble of a distant but loud mass that had collected on the square before the Palace of Justice for the public ceremony. 

Elphaba knew it was best to ask what she had on her mind now, before they’d be back in those stiffening Palace walls. “I’ve been thinking, with Fiyero and Boq in the government and Crope visiting his moms and dads in Ev, maybe we should start thinking about our new adventure too?”

“Did you have something in mind?”

“The Vinkus,” Elphaba said instantly. “Well, Kiamo Ko. Fiyero and Sarima offered us a room, if we want it. I know the trip will be risky by revealing our faces out there, but I can’t live my whole life in this Palace. People’s Palace or Wizard’s Palace, to me it will always be this oppressive building I can’t get away from.”

Glinda’s footsteps stopped and Elphaba felt the sinking feeling in her stomach. “Glinda?” She turned her wheelchair around but instead of resistance, she found sparkles in her eyes. “Let’s do it.”

“Really?” 

Glinda nodded and kissed her and Elphaba felt stupid with luck. 

“We can stay there in the mountains, and house sit for whenever Sarima or Fiyero are out travelling, and we can finally be free to roam around and not sit in that awful room all day, and you’ll love it, I promise!” Elphaba tripped over her words in her excitement.

Glinda laughed adoringly and sat upon her lap. “You don’t need to convince me, I already said yes. You’re not the only one getting sick of being locked up in these walls.” 

“So we’re doing this? We’re going to Kiamo Ko?”

“Hmhm. When is the next caravan?”

“Couple of weeks I think.”

“Perfect, that’ll be enough to pack our bags and say our farewells to the boys. Oh I will miss them though.”

“We can write. Like we do with Crope,” Elphaba reminded her.

“That’s true. Oh, I’m so excited!” Glinda clapped her hands. “I can’t wait!”

“Me neither.”

Glinda threw her hands around Elphaba’s neck. Their foreheads we’re touching. “I mean, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Elphaba smiled from ear to ear and with her nose softly nudged hers. “Me neither.”


End file.
